


Dream Brother I thru III (7/7)

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-15
Updated: 2001-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 61,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Sent to investigate mysterious hauntings in the painted wilds of Utah, the X-files team stumbles upon more than they bargained for, including the indomitable Alex Krycek.





	Dream Brother I thru III (7/7)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Dream Brother by Tabby

The Jones family kept an anxious vigil by Amanda's bedside. Hour after hour, they held hands and prayed, held the limp and nerveless hand of their daughter, looked into her unseeing eyes.

"I'm almost ready to have her disconnected," said her mother, in tears. "The doctors are saying it looks really bad." The others, a brother, two sisters and assorted cousins, aunts and uncles, all shook their heads. They wanted to give Amanda as much a chance as possible.

At around 8 PM, a very pretty nurse, her blonde hair swept up in a cap, came on the ward to check Amanda. She placed her hand very gently on the girl's forehead and bent close to whisper something in her ear. "What's she saying?" asked the elder Jones. "I don't know. Nurse, can she hear you?" Mrs. Jones asked. The nurse smiled at her radiantly. "She can now," she said.

The Joneses rushed into the ICU room. Amanda was waking up, trying to yawn with the ventilating equipment in her mouth, trying to stretch with her arms strapped down. Mrs. Jones pulled out the ventilation equipment and the girl gasped and started to breathe on her own. "What the fuck?" she asked.

Mr. Jones undid her straps and she raised a hand to her face. "My nose itches," she said, and made a feint for it, but her aim was poor and she got her cheek instead. Her older sister Latasha stepped forward and scratched her nose till Amanda said, "enough already!"

Mrs. Jones kissed her daughter on every inch of her head that was not covered with bandages. "Darling," she said, "we thought we'd lost you, or that you'd be a vegetable."

"I'm not a vegetable, evidently, but why am I here? What are these bandages doing on my head?"

Mrs. Jones looked at the others. "You had an accident," she said carefully.

"Hey!" said Amanda, sitting up, "I remember now! It was no accident! The guy shot me right between the eyes! Get out an APB on him, Mom."

"They have one," said her mother, "but other than 'San Francisco', I didn't know what to tell them."

"Not San Francisco, Mom, Portola Valley."

"And you never gave us a name, Amanda."

"C.G.B. Spender," she said, lying back down. "Start with that."

The elder Jones pulled out his cell phone. "Portola Valley Police...OK, Palo Alto Police, then...Yes, please...Yes, my name is Ed Jones and my daughter Amanda was shot by a resident of Portola Valley, name of C.G.B. Spender...you don't have a record of him? He lives there!...He's tall, well over six feet, graying brown hair, blue eyes, I don't know, on the thin side, broad shoulders...Just a dark blue business suit, light shirt, repp tie, black trenchcoat...Lives at 39 Alpine Road...OK, bye."

He hung up. "No record of any C.G.B. Spender," he said, "But they will check that address."

"Good," said Amanda. "He does use a lot of aliases." Unbidden to her mind came Krycek's telling her, "he has the police in his pocket...the military...the Justice Department...the FBI."

"It could be no good," she said heavily. "This man is the most powerful person in the world. He does whatever he damned well pleases."

"Well, we'll certainly try our best to help bring him to justice," said Mr. Jones. "No one can do what he did to you and get away with it."

The attending physician came into the room. "Oh...I must have the wrong room. I thought I was seeing a comatose woman with most of her brain blasted away."

"This is the right room," said Amanda, smiling.

"You shouldn't be able to string two words together," said the doctor. He checked her bandage. "Hey!" he said peeling it back, "The wound has healed over beautifully. I've got an idea...let's get an MRI on you, tomorrow morning. Surely they were wrong about your injuries," he said, talking into her chart.

"Mom," said Amanda.

"Yes, dear," her mother said, coming to take her hand. "When I was lying there, I knew nothing. Then this beautiful angel, long blonde hair and all, came over to me, touched my forehead and whispered in my ear, "go with God. You are healed."

The Joneses all looked at each other, thinking of the nurse. "Do you think it could have been?" asked her brother Jim, in low, awed tones. "An angel?" Jim was studying in a Jesuit seminary and was willing to embrace the possibility of such entities, but he'd never seen one.

"I'm willing to believe anything at this point," Mrs. Jones said. Whoever or whatever it was had snatched Mandy from the brink of death or worse. "Latasha, honey, go ask about that girl. See whether there really is a nurse here who fits that description. The young woman asked, but they shook their heads until one supervisor pointed to their only blonde nurse: short hair, fifty-ish, quite a bit overweight.

"No," said Latasha, smiling and shaking her head. "She doesn't work here," she reported to her family. Jim nodded. "I thought not," he said softly.

************************************************************************

The tall man stood smoking at the edge of the meadow in Foothills Park, after having first shot the ranger on patrol. He couldn't risk the man seeing what was to transpire. He glanced at his watch. Late. Well, sometimes they were. Soon enough, the ranger station and restroom structures began to shake, there was a weird throbbing noise, and a bright white light. 

The beings all came up to him and touched him this time. He would rather it were not so, but he had to play along. "I have the information for the first run in Algeria," he thought, rather than said to the creature who'd taken his right hand. "Place your device in my hand," thought the alien back at him, and he once again let the Palm Pilot do the talking, the letters and numbers flowing onto and into the creature. "Good, you have done well," said the entity.

There was another flash of light so bright he had to turn away, and the craft lifted off and darted over the Santa Cruz Mountains. I know where you're going, he thought, and lit another cigarette before walking back to his Porsche.

He reached home in ten minutes, driving fast. He hated these alien contacts, the strange noises and lights, their rubbery, knobby fingers on him, the huge odd heads with the unblinking glassy black eyes. Home would bring comfort. Alex would be there.

Krycek was waiting up for him. "I couldn't give myself the shot, I'm such a wuss," he said.

"Oh, Alex, that's all right, I'll do it for you," he said, and he did. Krycek kissed him gratefully, stripped off every stitch of clothing and kissed him again. The implied invitation was very obvious, and the man, tired as he was, could not resist it. Afterward, they lay in each other's arms. "I have to get up really early, Alex," the man said, sitting up enough to light a cigarette.

"Don't leave me," said Krycek.

The Smoking Man looked at him in surprise. "Alex, that's the first time I've ever heard you say something like that. What's going on?"

"Without you, I feel unprotected."

"What do you need protection from?"

"I don't know."

"Alex, are you forgetting you're the Ratboy, skilled with pistol, stiletto and Kalashnikov? All your weapons are right here and you can use them if you have to. Giordini's dead; you don't have to worry about him. I even had ground radar put in when they built the fences and installed the dogs. The screen's in the den."

Krycek shook his head. "I can't put my finger on it. Maybe someone in the Consortium will betray you. Maybe it's the aliens. I don't know! I just don't want you to leave," he said, clinging to the man. "Maybe I'm afraid of something happening to you. I love you."

The CSM looked at him in astonishment, lifted his face, looked him in the eye, blue eyes to green. "You're telling the truth," he said, and embraced Krycek. "I've waited seven years to hear that from you, the three words, words that men have killed over, words that women have heard and borne children in pain and death and endured great privations for, words that suicides have engraved on their souls. And you have splashed warm light in the cramped rooftop rooms of my mind, so that my failing years need not be wholly dark."

He rose at 12:00 midnight to be picked up by the Well-Manicured Man for his 4:30 flight. Krycek woke up with him, dressed and went out to see him off and to say hi to the WMM. He was still looking incredibly gorgeous, thought that party, though he was paler than he'd been in the islands; and he was thinner. Thought that Bill Runningwater was supposed to be a gourmet chef.

"He had the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face," remarked the Navajo, when Krycek returned gratefully to the warmth of the house. "What did you do to him?"

"I told him I loved him," said Krycek.

"Ah, that was the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to him! No wonder he's so happy! I've so wanted you two to be happy together."

"Problem is," said Krycek, "I'm still madly in love with Mulder."

"That can change," said Runningwater.

"Oh, no, I don't think so," said Krycek. "The deal is, Mulder gets most of the love, the lion's share, and the Old Man gets a little...like 90/10, get it?"

"You do a DAMNED fine imitation of a man in love, when you're with the Old Man."

Krycek sighed. "I don't know how I feel."

************************************************************************

Scully, taking out garbage, bumped into Johansen. "Whoops! Excuse me!" she said.

"The pleasure is all mine," he remonstrated. "You should bump into me more often."

She looked at him. "You're a sleaze," she said.

"And wouldn't it be nice to sleaze with me? I have some quaaludes. Let's go back to my apartment," he said, and before she knew it, she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

"David's expecting me," she said, when they came up for air. "I can't ... I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," he said. "Call him from my flat, say you've had car trouble...anything...come back with me, pretty Scully!"

She allowed herself to be led upstairs and into his apartment. "No," she said weakly, as he undressed her. "Ah...what a beautiful body! You're just beginning to show, and such nice full breasts! Pregnant women, very, very sexy. Now look at me," he said, skinning off his clothes. He had a beautiful, muscular body, and she was in his arms, and carried to the bed. 

"Waterbed," she squeaked. "Yes. Very nice for fucking."

He kissed her, nibbled on her lips, kissed her throat, her breasts, licked a wet trail down her abdomen, kissed her belly, her navel, and sucked her. She came quickly, yelling; and then he mounted her and fucked her, touching her while he did so. She came again, and then he did. "I can't believe what I just did," she said sadly, lying by his side in the swelling and ebbing waterbed.

"You followed in the footsteps of Krycek and Mulder," he said, grinning. "Now make a call to your hubby-to-be and we'll fuck again."

She made a shaky call to White and climbed back into bed with Brian Johansen. They made love for another hour, then she dressed and went back to White. "Mm," he said, "how come you already smell like sex?"

"Must be my pheromones," she said, kissing him and feeling awful.

"Well, come here, Ms. Exuder-of-pheromones, and splash a few my way." She made a quick decision and sucked him off, so that he need not know someone had come before him. For all her lectures about safe sex, she'd never had any with him, with Mulder or Johansen; it had all been unsafe as hell. And the greatest unsafety had lain in the damage she was doing to her psyche. Lying there in the oppressive darkness, her heart thumping irregularly, it occurred to her that she'd done something that was going to hurt her, hurt her soul, for a long, long time.

************************************************************************

Krycek saddled Socks when it was still dark and even the mockingbird had not yet begun its song cycle, and rode to the top of the hills in Foothills Park to greet the dawn. To his right, fog pouring over the Santa Cruz Mountains caught the early sun's fire in coral, salmon, pink; to his left, tiny automobiles, half-seen, half-guessed poured in drops and rivulets, silent and distant, writing the language of Silicon Valley in phrases petty and grand; about him the grassy hills, the oaks and madrones, the manzanitas coming to life with bird song and the scurrying of reptiles; above him a solitary hawk, and the cry from the hawk the predator's call and an announcement of freedom and fearlessness; and a beckoning unto the unknown, the unknowable.

This was Krycek's prayer to the day, and he sat his horse, reins dropped, his arms outstretched for a long long moment; and the sunny dawn turned grey and he felt the first drops of rain on his outstretched face. He dismounted and began a mad dance on the hilltop, a rain dance, a dance to the elements, to life. The gelding snorted and began to crop the green grass. Krycek danced until he was thoroughly soaked, slid into the wet saddle and rode back at a gallop, across country, not following a trail. Socks, a full-blooded Arab, was their best jumper and he took every obstacle with room to spare, tucking his small feet up neatly.

"What've you been up to?" asked Bob, who was feeding the horses alfalfa, oats and barley. "This feed gets wet, we'll have big trouble."

"Been riding," said Krycek. "And praying. That's what I do up there."

"Whatever," said Bob, shrugging. "Want to go for a ride today?"

"Sure. Where were you thinking of going?"

"Oh, Foothills to Skyline."

"That's doable," said Krycek. "I'll take Diablo. You can take Guardian, if you want."

"No, I've been working with Daphne, think I'll take her."

Krycek returned to the house and picked up the phone.

"Uh-uh-uh!" said Bill Runningwater, making coffee. "Who are you calling, Bright-Eyes?"

"No one," said Krycek. "Mulder, this is me! Yeah! He's out of town for a week or so; bring your toothbrush!... Baby, I love you too!...Yeah, come right now!"

He replaced the handset. Runningwater glared at him. "I don't approve of this at all, Alexei," he said.

"What, are you gonna snitch me off?"

The Navajo sighed. "I've told you before, I don't do things like that," he said. "I just wish you'd behave. You have so much, the world at your feet."

"I don't. I can't even sign a fucking recording contract like a normal person."

"Alexei, think of someone other than yourself for a minute! That man went off into the blue beyond believing that you loved him."

"I do love him."

"Then why do you behave this way?"

"Because I love Mulder more," said Krycek reasonably. "I have to get out of these wet clothes."

Mulder arrived in half an hour, while Krycek was showering. Runningwater wordlessly led him to the shower. Mulder stripped rapidly and joined Krycek, who was soaping himself in an incredibly erotic manner, and who had a hard-on. "Let me," said Mulder, and soaped Krycek across his chest, down his back, his ass, his cock...he knelt and took Krycek in his mouth. Krycek groaned and it seemed that his legs wouldn't support him; the sensation of Mulder's lips and tongue sliding up and down his slick cock was extraordinary. "That's so good," he gasped out. "Keep suckin' me, Mulder!"

Mulder obliged and Krycek came with a scream. "I wanna fuck you," said Mulder, straightening up and kissing Krycek deeply. "Taste." Mulder shoved Krycek face-forward into the shower wall and quickly penetrated him. "Feels good, huh, Alex?" he asked, biting Krycek's neck. Krycek moaned. "Fuck me, Mulder!"

"Like this?" Mulder asked, pushing just a little of his enormous rock-hard cock into Krycek. "More," begged Krycek. "Like this?" and the cock went in another fraction of an inch.

"Oh, Mulder, I want the whole thing! Fuck me with your great big cock!"

"All right," said Mulder, and shoved his full length and width into Krycek, who gasped and writhed. "Touch me," he said. "Let me fuck you a while first," said Mulder, "this is so good!" He thrust into Krycek again and again, then reached around him, grasped his cock and began to stroke it, at first slowly, then quickly, then slowly again. Krycek went completely to pieces, begging, moaning and then screaming his orgasm, and Mulder was a second behind him, yelling Alex's name.

They dressed and went out to the kitchen for food. The Napoleons were still there and Krycek greedily took two, and a cup of coffee. Runningwater was nowhere to be seen. "He doesn't approve of us," said Krycek. "He wants me to be with the Smoking Man and no other."

"Would he rat on us, do you think?" asked Mulder, cutting a piece of Napoleon off with his fork.

"Oh, no. He just doesn't like it."

"You're right, I don't like it," the Indian said somberly behind him. "You told him you loved him!"

"And I do love him," said Krycek, "as I've already said!"

"Hey," said Mulder, swallowing coffee, "You told him you loved him? And you do love him? What bullshit is this?"

"True bullshit," said Krycek. "I do love him. Just not nearly as much as I love you, Mulder. I'm IN love with you, I'm not in love with him."

"What the fuck?" said Mulder, confused. "Why am I getting the impression that two and two add up to five here?"

"Because I never could add," said Krycek. "Want to take a ride with Bob and me today? I'll mount you on Goldie again, he's very gentle."

"Um, yeah, OK, but as for this love thing, what the fuck? I thought you hated the guy."

"Well, when he hurts me, I hate him like poison. But most of the time I really like him. C'mon, Mulder, he and I go way back."

"Shit," said Mulder, and then his cell phone rang. "Spender residence," he answered, and Krycek giggled.

"Mulder."

"Uh-oh. Hi, Scully."

"Mulder, if this gets out to any of the others, your ass is really grass."

"Not with Johansen. He and I have this deal," he said, forgetting Krycek's presence.

"Dave will surely call Skinner if he finds out."

"Hey, Scully."

"Mulder."

"I heard a lot of noise coming from Brian's flat last night. Female-type noise. Wouldn't have been you, would it have?"

Silence.

"Ah-ha! Gotcha! OK, you keep this quiet, don't tell White, and I won't tell White you fucked Johansen."

"All right," she said slowly. "Have a nice day, Mulder."

"What's this about this deal with Johansen?" Krycek asked suspiciously.

"Ah...nothing."

"You fucked him, didn't you?"

"Uh."

"Well, he sucked me off a few days ago, so I guess we're even. Look, it's OK, Mulder," he said, embracing the older man. "I love you no matter what."

"Looks like Johansen got Scully, too!"

Krycek threw his head back and laughed. "This is too much! Yes, I admit the guy is irresistible, and I guess he's bisexual or he wouldn't have seduced Scully too...geez!"

"Is it still raining?" Krycek stuck his head out the kitchen door. "Yeah, we'll wait to ride. There's plenty of firewood; let's have a fire in the fireplace." Soon there was a merry, crackling blaze. "I'll get some wine, then let's get naked on the rug," said Krycek.

"How about Bill?"

"Oh, he'll ignore us. C'mon!"

Soon they were nude on the Aubusson carpet, facing the fire. Very gradually, they began to turn toward each other. Krycek put out a hand, touching Mulder's face, his lips, drawing a line down the center of his chest, around his nipples, down the center of his abdomen to his cock, which was huge, hard and stiff. Then they were pressed against each other, face to face, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. Mulder caught Krycek's questing hand, sucked his fingers one by one, took him in a kiss, scalding in its intensity, deep and thorough, each sucking the tongue of the other, nibbling the beautiful lips, licking the mouth; then Krycek kissed down Mulder's chest, sucked his nipples, and Mulder did the same for Krycek; they traded off kissing, licking and sucking in a lovely dance all the way down to their hard cocks, which they licked and sucked delicately. "It's time to fuck, and I'm gonna fuck you, Mulder," said Krycek. "Spoon."

In the sideways position, Krycek rubbed along Mulder's ass and worked a finger up him. Mulder moaned. Krycek lubed his entire hand and slid first one, then two and then three fingers up Mulder, then his entire fist. Mulder groaned loudly. "Like that?" asked Krycek, fucking him with his hand. "Oh God, that's so great!" Mulder said. 

"Now I'll fuck you with my cock," said Krycek, and slid himself in. He thrust slowly, then faster, then more slowly, then very fast.

"Touch me," begged Mulder. Krycek took his cock in hand and stroked it fast, as he was quickly reaching his own climax. "Let's come at the same time," he gasped. They did, in a screaming rush of spasms and contractions and tangle of limbs.

"That was the best yet," said Krycek, tracing a delicate pattern on Mulder's side with his come. 

"I agree," said Mulder. "Let's do a 69 next!" he said.

"All right," said Krycek. "Top or bottom?"

"Top, please," said Mulder. Krycek lay on his back and Mulder positioned himself above him, going to work on his cock, which was already hard again. "Wait," Krycek said. He reached to the side and brought out of his pile of clothes two dildoes. "One for you, one for me," he said, and slid one into Mulder, who moaned. Krycek rolled on his side and Mulder slid his in. He rolled back and Mulder went back to work on him. Krycek began to suck Mulder. The effect was heightened by the dildoes. They licked and sucked and used all their skills on each other's cock, and they moaned and gasped and writhed and came in each other's mouths like Roman candles.

"Maybe that was the best," said Mulder, lying side by side with Krycek in front of the fire. "Got another one in you?"

"I've always got another one in me, for you," said Krycek. "Handcuff me to the sectional."

"Won't that remind you of...something you don't want to be reminded of?"

Krycek smirked. "That's why I didn't ask you to handcuff me to the bed!"

"OK," said Mulder, and cuffed both Krycek's arms to the furniture legs. The younger man had a huge erection, dripping pre-come, and the older man felt his cock stirring and it too was suddenly erect. Mulder lubed his cock and shoved it home, and Krycek almost came right then. He lasted through a few strokes, looked at Mulder apologetically and had the hardest orgasm of his life, screaming and thrashing. Mulder soon followed and howled and groaned loudly.

Afterward, he found the handcuff keys and released Krycek, who went into his arms, kissing and caressing him. "Fabulous sex with Alex Krycek in bonds!" said Mulder. "No wonder he kept you like that for, what was it, a month?"

"Seemed like years," said Krycek. "It was off and on for a couple of weeks, and it was mainly to control and punish me, show me who was boss, etc., but he used to have sex with me like that, yeah, I'm sure he got a big charge out of it...So now, Mulder, you're no better than he is," he said, grinning wickedly.

"Hey," said Mulder, "it was your idea!"

"My sick, sick, sick idea," said Krycek, still grinning.

"You are so sexy," Mulder said, "so fabulous, it seems almost as though I could share you with dear papa, that there would be enough to go around: the largesse, the magnaminity, the vast scope and depth of your sexuality, shining in and through your soft and bright beryl eyes, an eternity of lust, of passion; surely it could absorb another man's contact with you and be undamaged, for the bright and shining thing it is can never be tarnished."

"Almost." he said. "And the almost is that, like him, I am terribly jealous and possessive, Alexei, and I don't want to share you with anyone, least of all him, the man with no accountability, the man who has no responsibility for his crimes against God and man; the person who has cheated the Fates of his own death so many times, for he so deserves it; the man who hovers like the Grim Reaper above so many billions of helpless and hapless lives; the man who sent his own wife and daughter to torture and death by an alien race he's sworn fealty to instead of to his own people, weeping and burning and dying in the storm of fire, the tearing and searing wind to come."

"Wow," said Krycek. "What a mind you have! Let's go fuck in the shower!" 

************************************************************************

The next morning Amanda Jones was wheeled on a gurney into the MRI chamber room, and then placed in the machine. The doctors studying her results were simply amazed. "There's no evidence of any brain damage whatsoever," one specialist finally said. "None. This girl was shot in the head with a high-caliber weapon, tearing her frontal and occipital lobes to shreds? If that's so, it must be a miracle. There must be some mistake. The patients were switched?"

The other doctor shook his head. "It's the same patient."

The attending doctor reported to the family: "She's perfectly OK, no sign of any brain damage. We'd like to run a few more tests on her, then she can go home, more than likely."

Amanda looked with gratitude upon him, upon her family. "I've been given another chance. God has given me another chance; now I have to go out and do His work, instead of killing people for a living."

"Is that what you did, Mandy?" asked her mother, sorrowfully.

"Yes. I told you I was a spy. Spies kill people."

Her father cleared his throat. "This creep who shot you...the police are no closer to locating him. They don't seem to connect the guy with the house! I don't know what's going on!"

"I do," said Amanda. "Oh, they know where he is, all right, but they won't bother him, because he owns them. They're accountable to him."

"But even the President isn't above the law," said Mrs. Jones.

"This guy is above any law of man," said Amanda. "He even killed the Kennedys and Martin Luther King and got away with it."

"No!" breathed Mr. Jones. "That's not so! It can't be!"

"It is," she said complacently. "This guy is the Devil, Dad. You can't fight him. At first, I thought, maybe we could; but I remembered that we can't. Let's not try. If you do he will come after you. Let's cut our losses. I'm OK!"

"Still doesn't seem right and it seems unbelievable that he has all that power."

"No, it isn't right, but yes, believe it."

"Oh, dear, he seemed such a pleasant person when he came to the door looking for you," wailed Mrs. Jones. "I'm so sorry! How would I have known?"

"You wouldn't have. He could seem any way he wanted. The guy has an IQ of 205."

"So he is a criminal mastermind? What is he masterminding?" Mr. Jones asked.

"A takeover of Earth by alien races," she said tiredly, leaning back on her bed.

"Well, that's patently ridiculous," said Latasha, coming in late. "He's crazy!"

Amanda shook her head. "No, it's very real," she said. "And don't bother calling the police or the TV stations, or your senator. They wouldn't believe you or they'd be in league with him and his cronies, the Syndicate or Consortium, they call themselves. We'd like to be able to at least be in the game, but they hold every card."

"Every card," she said, closed her eyes and slept.

************************************************************************

It was a gruelling 12 hour flight from San Francisco to Algiers, Algeria. The Old Man worked on his laptop and Palm Pilot and at some point the Well-Manicured Man switched seats with the person sitting next to his colleague so that they could sit together and talk. They spoke of many things in soft tones and drank champagne and cappuccino. The Smoking Man was going around the bend not being able to smoke, even with the Patch AND the gum, and when they finally arrived he lit up immediately they hit the tarmac. Their contact, Monsieur LeBlanc of the African division of ThruWay Systems, found them easily enough and they were quickly enclosed in a car. "It's damnably hot here," said the WMM. "Isn't there air conditioning?"

"I am afraid not," Monsieur LeBlanc said. "In zis hot weather, it makes ze radiator boil over. I will take you to your hotel, you can freshen up and zen we tour ze facilities."

Their hotel, El Aurassi, was all right; it had a pool, for example, they had two adjoining rooms, and it DID have air-conditioning. "I'm jet-lagged. I think I'll just stay here," said the WMM. "You go on and meet with him. You speak French, anyway."

"Oh, I think he speaks creditable English," said the CSM. "Come on. Take a shower; you'll feel better."

They met with Monsieur LeBlanc over dinner in a local restaurant that had received several stars, and indeed it was pretty good. They had Algerian specialities. "Like Moroccan," the WMM pronounced. "Very good." The CSM and Monsieur LeBlanc spoke softly in a mixture of French and English that the WMM found hard to follow.

"We're just finalizing the plans for the distribution network," the CSM explained. "He wants to show us his office and warehouse facilities tomorrow."

The WMM nodded. "How does one eat this eggplant dish anyway?" he asked.

"With one's fingers," the CSM said, lighting a cigarette.

Afterward, they toured the ThruWay facilities, noting the modern office and neat warehouse. "The prototype," said the CSM, "is on its way to you from the plane by courier. Do not, I repeat, do not turn it on. It will cause death within a few seconds. I can't do a demonstration. Do you understand?"

"Oui," Monsier LeBlanc said. "Je sais."

They returned to their hotel. "I'm going for a dip in the pool," said the WMM.

"That's fine. I have some work to do," said the CSM, pulling out his laptop. At one point someone knocked on the door, a pretty Berber boy with sweet mint tea. "Put it over there on the nightstand," the Smoking Man instructed. The boy did so, and lingered. "Here's a tip," said the CSM distractedly, pulling out a $50 bill. 

"Do you need anything more, Monsieur?" the boy asked.

"Are you offering sexual favors?" the CSM asked, amused. "You can suck me while I'm working here at the desk," he said. And I can pretend you are Alex, my Alex, he thought.

Afterward, he gave the boy $500 and told him to get the hell out. It had been pleasant, yes, but how bitter the aftertaste, because it had not been Alex's lips and tongue on him, but some anonymous whore's.

There was another knock at the door. "Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want?" he asked, swallowing mint tea.

"It is I," said the WMM. "I had a nice swim; you should go. You are always working!"

"That's why I am where I am."

"That mind of yours never quits going."

"No, it doesn't," he said, lighting a cigarette. "Join me in tea?"

************************************************************************

"Like me to do this?" Mulder asked Krycek.

"Oh God yes. Try another finger, too. Put your hand in, Mulder! Oh, God, that's so good!" They lay together on the California-king sized bed in the master bedroom, which Krycek had fitted with silver satin sheets. "Anything, Mulder, anything goes," said Krycek, twisting round to kiss him. "Do anything you like!" Mulder fitted a cock ring over Krycek's cock and his own. "Come on my face," said Mulder. "All over. I want to feel it drip, I want to lick it."

"Then suck me," said Krycek.

Mulder rolled Krycek over and took his cock in his mouth, nibbling and suckling on just the head, then licking all over, his balls, up and down the shaft, swallowing the whole in one gulp, massaging the tip of the head with the back of his throat, licking, licking and sucking, then withdrawing at the last second so Krycek spurted all over Mulder's face, liquid life-force dripping into Mulder's mouth, which he gratefully swallowed. 

"I'll lick the rest," said Krycek, kissing and licking Mulder's face. "I taste good, huh?"

"Oh, you taste wonderful!" Mulder said, embracing him. "I want you to come on your belly and I'll lick it off."

"Then fuck me," said Krycek. Mulder inserted a finger, then slipped a second in, then a third. "I'm pretty big," he said, lubed his cock and slid it in. Krycek gasped and writhed. Mulder kissed him, kissed him while he was fucking him, and pretty soon Krycek was coming and coming, and Mulder came too, groaning and shuddering. He withdrew and bent his head to Krycek's belly, licking up his come. "I want to get it all," he said.

"Darling, lick it all," gasped Krycek. Incredibly, he was hard again. "Cuff me upside-down," he said, "and tie my legs too, to the end of the bed. There's rope under the bed. Do it!"

Mulder complied. "Now fuck me," said Krycek. "Fuck me really hard, like you mean it! Yeah, oh, Mulder! Yeah, hard, just like that!"

Mulder fucked him as hard as he could and Krycek came, arching his back and crying Mulder's name. Mulder found Krycek in bondage the most incredibly erotic thing he'd ever seen. He took his time with his orgasm and found himself shuddering uncontrollably in the most intense pleasure he'd ever known.

"God," he said, undoing Krycek. "How do we do an encore for that?"

"I'll think of something," said Krycek. "Want to fuck in my lap?"

Mulder sat in Krycek's lap backward, penetrated pleasurably by his big cock. Krycek guided Mulder in the backwards thrusts, slow and easy till Mulder lost control and gasped and groaned his climax, spurting all over his lap. Krycek came deep within Mulder's heat, the warmth gathering in his groin and then in his cock, coming and coming while he yelled "Mulder! Mulder!"

"Mulder, I'm going to get in this upside-down anti-gravity device, and I want you to fuck me at that angle. Fuck me good. You don't even have to touch me, I come just from your fucking, love."

Krycek strapped himself into the device, naked, and Mulder leaned over him, slid his cock in. "Oh God, so good, Mulder! Fuck me!" Mulder fucked him at the strange angle, even slid a couple of fingers in along with his cock, stroked him anyway, because he could not stand the sight of Krycek's beautiful erect cock untouched, and when Krycek came it was straight down, shooting onto the rug, and when Mulder came he shot deeper than he ever had into Krycek's ass.

Mulder brought Krycek back up to an upright position and unstrapped him. "What now?" he asked. "The exercise equipment," Krycek said. "Lie back on the bench, as though you were about to press. Now, I'll fuck you, Mulder." and he made good on his promise, thrusting his large hot cock into Mulder, leaning forward and kissing him while he fucked him till Mulder came with a strangled cry and then Krycek came, shooting deep into Mulder's ass.

"Cuff me to this overhead lift," suggested Krycek, and Mulder did, so that Krycek's arms were spread. "Tie my legs, my ankles, Mulder," said Krycek, so that now he stood, arms and legs splayed. "Kiss me Mulder, suck me, that's right, then fuck me." Mulder held his lover in place and fucked him till they both came. Mulder loosed him and they fell on the couch in the den, kissing and embracing. "Your belt, Mulder. Take it off. That's right."

"You don't want me to hit you with it?" Mulder asked in concern. "No, just lay it across me, gently. That's it," he said, and he began to moan. "Fuck me again, Mulder, leave the belt there. Ah! AH!" he cried, coming as soon as he was penetrated. "Move up here, Mulder, and I'll suck you.

"All right. You taste so good, Mulder! Come in my mouth! Ah..that's right!"

Krycek produced a needle, an ice cube and an antiseptic swab. "What's that for?" asked Mulder suspiciously. 

"For you, my darling love. I'm going to pierce your nipples, then you pierce mine." He numbed each nipple with the ice cube, poked the needle through quickly and fastened a gold ring through each.

"My God," said Mulder, "now what?"

"Told you, everything goes, Mulder. Now you do mine."

"Won't he mind?"

"I think he'll be incredibly turned on," said Krycek. "Come on!" Mulder did as his lover had and soon had two gold rings fastened in Krycek's nipples. "I've got some chain to clip onto the rings. There's yours... and here's mine. Perfect!"

Krycek began to nibble on Mulder's nipples. Pulling gently on the chain, he fastened one end of a handcuff to it, the other to the bed. "Got you, Mulder," he said. "Be a good boy now."

"I've been very very bad," said Mulder truthfully.

"Roll over on your side," Krycek said, and whacked his butt hard with his hand, then a rolled-up newspaper, then a hairbrush. Mulder grunted. "Feel good?" asked Krycek. "I'm gonna fuck you while I spank you, and you're gonna love it."

"Oh my God, that feels so good," Mulder gasped, when Krycek slid into him.

"Been a bad boy, huh?" Krycek asked, continuing to whack Mulder. Mulder looked into his eyes, groaned and came, a fountain of come arching over the bed onto the floor, then Krycek came, his arms around Mulder, penetrating him very deeply.

"Mulder," he said, unclipping him from the bed, "now I'm gonna eat your ass. Just that, for about half an hour till you come, then you do the same for me. Lie on your stomach, spread your legs a little." Krycek licked and sucked him, sticking his tongue as far up as it would go. Mulder groaned and writhed. "Feels good, huh?"

"I'm gonna come," said Mulder, and spurted onto the satin sheets.

"My turn," said Krycek, lying on his stomach. "Take your time. I like to enjoy it a long time before I come." Mulder licked and sucked him, coaxed his questing tongue past the tight bud. Krycek groaned. When he came he curled his toes and shouted, coming on the sheets.

"Now, wasn't that nice?" asked Krycek, embracing Mulder, kissing him.

"There's lunch out," said Bill Runningwater, poking his head in.

"I've eaten," said Krycek.

************************************************************************

"We just want to run a couple more tests, Ms. Jones, then you can go. In fact, I'm predicting you'll be released to your family this evening."

"Great," smiled Amanda. "You folks have been just great!" 

A nurse came in and removed her bandages. "No need for these anymore!" she exclaimed. "You're totally healed, not even a scar!"

"I've been healed by an angel," exulted Amanda. "Mom, I'm going to work for a homeless shelter."

"Well, honey, once we get you home, we just want you to rest for a while."

"I don't need to rest. I'm totally, 100% OK!"

Mr. Jones said, worriedly, "I haven't been able to make any headway with the bastard who shot you."

Amanda shook her head. "You won't, Dad. Give it up! He's probably out traveling, anyway."

"Where does he travel?"

"All over the world. He speaks like 8 or 9 languages, has business interests everywhere."

"Just who is this guy?" asked Mr. Jones.

"I told you before, he's the Devil."

Mrs. Jones shook her head. "You're exaggerating, dear."

"Am I? OK, maybe he's in human form, but he's sold his soul to the Devil, big-time."

Edward Jones arrived, looking serious. "My superior at the seminary says it's possible to have contact with angels," he said.

"Well I already know that," said Amanda. "So what else is new?"

"We found him," Edward said quietly. "He's headed to Algeria."

"Jesus Christ!" said Amanda, sitting up. "How could you possibly--"

"Amanda, there's someone I'd like you to meet," said Ed. "His name is Walter Skinner, and he's Assistant Director of the FBI."

"My God," she said fervently, "A.D. Skinner! Pleased to make your acquaintance!"

He shook her hand. "I heard you had a run-in with Mr. Spender," he said.

"Yes! He followed me home and shot me in the head, but I've been miraculously cured," she said.

"I understand that something like that had happened," he said carefully. "We've tracked him to Algeria, but there's nothing we can do to him, we can't touch him, unless of course the Sunnis or the Berbers get to him."

"Why is it we can't get to him?" the elder Mr. Jones asked.

Skinner gave him a strange look. "He is inviolable. He controls most of the world's multi-national corporations. Did you not know? He has wealth unfathomable, and the power that goes with all that money."

"Oh," said Mr. Jones thoughtfully. "Still, it doesn't seem that he should be able to get away with something like this."

"He has for years," said Skinner grimly. "He killed a President. Anyway, we'd like you to tell us, Ms. Jones, anything you can think of about him and about the case. If this involves your killing people, I'd like you to know that you have immunity. Can you meet with me in my office tomorrow?"

"No," said Mrs. Jones.

"Sure!" said Amanda. "I'm being released this afternoon. I'm fine, really, look, no scar even on my forehead!"

He looked and shook his head. "It's really amazing. Really amazing...there were some supernatural occurrences with the last case, may be some with this one too...I just don't know. Anyway, see you tomorrow afternoon at around 2?"

"That's fine," smiled Amanda.

************************************************************************

When the WMM knocked again on the CSM's door, that party was still hard at work on his laptop. "Don't you ever take a break?"

"No," he was told. "What? Is it the feast of Ramadan or something?"

"That ended almost two months ago, as you well know. The French and American Consulates would like to talk to you."

"And they called you? Now what the hell do they want?"

"They want to meet with us tomorrow at 2."

"All right," said the Smoking Man, exasperated, and lit a Morley. "I didn't bring enough of these; they have horrible cigarettes in these third world countries. Did they give you a clue as to what it was about?"

"No, but I wouldn't worry. They sounded very pleasant."

"Uh-huh," said the CSM. "I'm taking extra clips."

"You plan to shoot them if they disagree with you?"

"I plan nothing. I am merely prepared for any contingency. Did you like that mint tea? I can order more."

He didn't sleep at all well without his Alex to cuddle, to touch, to hear him whisper sweet, sweet things in his ear. His Alex, gloriously handsome, touchingly modest, looking like he'd stepped off the assembly line of God's idea of Mr. Universe; as if the karmic wheel spun for him alone, the green things grew, babies were birthed, the heavens revolved, the mockingbird sang wildly at midnight, all for him, him alone.

Well, he'd be back with Alex soon enough. He rose, put on a swimsuit and took a towel. Might as well avail himself of the facilities. He dove cleanly into the pool and swam a few laps with strong strokes. All his smoking had not broken his wind. Pulling himself out, he noticed that a pretty young Arabic girl had sat down near his stuff.

"That's mine," he said calmly.

"Monsieur, il parle Francais?"

"I do, but I prefer not to," he said. "What do you want?"

"Voulez-vous, um, un jeune fille?"

"No, I wouldn't. I don't like girls. Now scram!"

"Oui," she said, looking hurt and picking up her towel.

He toweled off and went up to his room. The maid had made up the beds and left some kind of Arabic delicacy on the pillows, which he threw out. He got into bed and placed a call.

"Alex?"

"Hi hi! How are you?"

"Well, you sound bouncy. I'm fine; things are going pretty well. I ought to be home in a few days. It's very hot here."

"It's very cold here. Fortunately the stable is almost finished; I worry about the Thoroughbreds. I miss you!"

"Well, I miss you too, Alex, a whole hell of a lot. I can't even get to sleep without you."

"I heard Algeria is very dangerous, lots of riots and throat-cuttings and such. Take care of yourself!"

"Thank you, sweetheart, but I'm rather good at taking care of myself. Have you been taking care of yourself? What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just sitting reading in front of the fire. It's raining, an Arctic storm."

"OK, well, just do that, stay in and take care of yourself."

At the very moment the CSM was talking to Krycek, Mulder was going down on his lover, and Krycek squeaked from time to time. "Are you all right, Alex? Not coming down with a cold, are you?"

"No, my love, I'm OK," gasped Krycek.

The man became immediately suspicious. "Put Fox Mulder on," he said.

"He's not here."

"Don't give me that crap. Put him on."

Wordlessly, Krycek handed the phone to Mulder. "Hi, Dad," he said affably.

"Fox, you are not supposed to be there. Go home at once, or I shall call Bruno and Dane and have you removed."

"Does he mean it?" Mulder asked Krycek.

"He means it," said Krycek.

"All right, I'll go peacefully, not to mention peaceably," said Mulder into the phone.

"Good. Give me Alex, please."

Krycek's look said, uh-oh. "This is Alex," he said, his heart banging painfully.

"Alex, you're in trouble. What do you suppose is going to happen to you?"

"I don't know," said Krycek miserably.

"I'll tell you. I'm placing you under 24-hour guard. These guards will cuff you to the bed, four-point. You won't be able to move at all, except to get up for bathroom and meal breaks."

"Oh. Are you gonna beat me?"

"That depends. I want to know what you did with Fox Mulder. Start talking."

"We hugged and kissed, that's all," said Krycek steadfastly.

"Oh, you must think I'm really stupid. I want every gory detail."

Krycek hemmed and hawed, and told him about half of it.

"OK," the man said. "You have two choices before you. One is that you absorb no personal blame but put it off on Fox Mulder, in which case I will make sure that Skinner knows about it, and Mulder will be off the case. Two is that you take the blame, and I punish you. I will try to make the punishment fit the crime."

"I take all the blame," said Krycek.

"My valiant Alexei! You have huevos, my friend. Have you had a shot lately?"

"No, I haven't."

"Get Bill to give you one."

"He won't, says he won't enable my habit."

"Oh, but he will. Put him on."

"BILL!" shouted Krycek. "Phone," he said.

"Hi, boss...Um-hm, yep, they sure did. Knocked over most of the furniture while they did it...Yes, I will...I don't like doing that, you know that...It's an order? All right, I will. How is Algiers?"

He hung up and punched a speed-dial number. "Bruno? Get yourself and Dane over here with handcuffs, order of the Boss...Yes, that's right...Poor nothing! He's a little slut!"

"Hey, you just called me a slut?" asked Krycek.

Runningwater looked at him. "You are one," he said. "Sit on the bed and give me your arm."

"OK." he said. "Now lie face up and wait for the guards."

Krycek glared at him. "You really are on his side!"

"You've hurt him terribly, Alexei, how could you do it?"

Krycek was silent. "Now lie down and relax," Bill said. "I think I hear them now."

Bruno and Dane walked into the room and efficiently clipped Krycek to the bed. Runningwater left to get something on the stove, and Dane wandered out after him. "I haven't had dinner," he said, "got anything?"

"We've always got good things to eat in this house," the Navajo said.

Bruno lingered behind in the bedroom, touching Krycek's jeaned leg, his muscle-shirted arm. "Got you trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey again, you pretty thing!"

"You touch me again, I'll kick your ass," Krycek ground out.

"I don't think you will, you know?" Bruno asked. "If there's anything you want, anything at all, please let me know."

Mulder called the house about a half-hour later looking for Krycek. "He's not here," said Bill Runningwater stiffly. "He stepped out, must have gone to the store."

"Oh, the hell he did! He's there, let me talk to him!"

Bill reluctantly brought the phone to Krycek and held it up so he could talk into it. "Mulder? They've got me cuffed to the bed again, do you believe it? Orders of the Old Man!"

"Good Christ!" said Mulder, pulling on his hair and pacing around his room. "I don't believe it! Stay put, and I'll rescue you, OK?"

"Put is where I'm likely to stay," said Krycek drily. "I'll wait, Sweetheart. How're you gonna get past the dogs?"

"I don't know, I don't know," said Mulder distractedly. "I'll think of something, OK?"

"He's coming to try to get you?" asked Bill Runningwater. "He'll never make it! Let me talk to him! Mulder, this is Bill. Listen to reason! Alex is in no harm whatsoever, and is resting comfortably. He doesn't need rescuing. We're taking care of him. Let us do our job."

"You've got him prisoner there. How comfortable can he be? Bill, I love this man and I can't stand by and watch him tortured!"

"Someone else loves him, that is the problem; someone infinitely more powerful than you are; and I wouldn't mess with him, Mulder. Do you want another punctured lung, or something worse than that?"

"Are you threatening me? I can't believe this! I thought you were on our side, and you've gone wholly over to the enemy's camp!"

"Don't interfere, Mulder. This is our business, not yours. I'm hanging up now," and he clicked the "off" button.

"Oh," said Krycek, disappointed. "Will you at least stay with me and talk to me?"

"I'll read to you," said Runningwater, picking "The Lord of the Rings" off the shelf. "Where did we end before?"

"With the Company pursued by the Black Riders in the Shire," said Krycek.

An hour later, another call came in. "Oh, hi, Boss," said Bill into the handset. "He looks all right. Want to talk to him?"

"Hi," said Krycek. "My arms and legs are getting pretty stiff."

"I'll have Bill double the doses of your medicine, and I'll tell him that you can get up to walk around, supervised. I hope you realize why I'm doing this. I love you, Alexei."

"I love you too," said Krycek. "I'm sorry about what I did."

"I'm sure you are, and you will become sorrier in the days ahead. Give me back to Bill, please."

"OK," said Runningwater, hanging up. "Higher dose for you, Alexei, and up you go for a walk. Bruno!"

Krycek was shot up, released and allowed to walk around the house. "May I go out to see my horses?"

"Sure, why not? Just don't get on one! We all know how you ride!" He'll ride to Mulder's, given half a chance, he thought.

"Just let me pet Guardian," Krycek said. "I'll just climb this fence here...see, I'm just petting him...hey, Guardian..."

Runningwater's attention was diverted momentarily by Bob complaining about the feed getting wet, and Krycek was up on the stallion's back, quick as a wink, quicker. "Get off that horse, Alexei," said Bill warningly. "Bruno!"

Bruno came out, his gun drawn. Krycek put the horse into a rear, directly above the guard. "Don't shoot!" he cried fiercely. "I'll smash you!" He wheeled the stallion around and took off for the far western fence, headed for Foothills Park. "Drive to Foothills Park," directed Bill. God knows what he's doing. "I'll ride Diablo to try to follow him. Bob, you ride Socks, he's a jumper and Alex has set off across rough country."

They saddled and bridled the horses, losing precious time while Krycek took off for God knew where, and rode anxiously into the wilderness. There were indeed fences, bushes, low-lying trees, rocks in the way, and Socks and Diablo cleared them neatly. They were at a disadvantage, of course, because Guardian was very fast and could jump everything they could; but they took heart in the fact that Krycek was riding with no saddle, bridle or halter, as was his wont. They finally found him, after nightfall, huddled in a ball in front of a makeshift fire he'd started, the stallion snorting and grazing nearby. He was soaking wet and shivering violently, and he couldn't talk.

"He's hypothermic," pronounced the vet. "We've got to get him help at once. See if you can heat up a cup of tea on that fire, and give it to him; then we've got to pack him out." The tea was made and Krycek swallowed a few sips of it. "To heat your core, Alexei," he said. "Otherwise you'll die."

"I want to die," said Krycek. "Here, in my beloved park, I want to return to my mother the earth, who will take me back with her."

"Not yet," said Bill Runningwater, pulling a sleeping bag from his saddle. "Someone needs to take off his clothes and get naked inside the bag with him. You, Bob, you do it." Bob happily obliged and held Krycek in a tight embrace.

"Do you feel warmer now?" he asked. "Yes, some," said Krycek, his teeth chattering a bit less.

"No sex," cautioned Runningwater. "That's not part of the deal." Nevertheless, Bob caressed him, trying to get him hard. "I'll suck you off," he whispered to Krycek. "That should make you feel better." He kissed Krycek, kissed down his chest and took him in his mouth.

Runningwater watched Krycek's face contort. "Hey!" he said. "No sex!" but it was too late, and Krycek had come in Bob's mouth. "That was delicious!" Bob said. "No wonder everyone wants you!"

"You disobeyed my direct order," said the Navajo severely, "but he does look better, doesn't he? Let's get him down the mountain. He can ride behind me."

They got Krycek down to the ranch and placed him in bed, covering him with warm blankets. Runningwater didn't have the heart to place him in manacles. He called the Old Man. "He escaped and we found him very hypothermic, half-dead in the cold rain. It was a suicide attempt, Boss...Yes, force-feed him hot liquids round the clock? We've covered him with several blankets...Will you? Thank God!...Yes, I will....All right."

He punched in a number. "Hello, Dr. Scully? This is Bill Runningwater, and we have a situation. Alex is half-dead of hypothermia. Can you help? Will you be here soon? Thank you!"

Scully was buzzed through the gates, noticing the observant pack of German Shepherds, which she imagined were not just there for window-dressing. Bill met her at the front door. "He's in here," he said, leading the way to the master bedroom. Krycek lay shivering under several heavy blankets.

"Alex," she said, "can you hear me?"

Krycek turned toward her. "I can hear you, Scully. You've come just for me?"

"Just for you." She took his pulse and blood pressure, and his temp. "Low," she said. "Get him in a tub of very hot water. Yes, that Jacuzzi would be fine. Feed him hot soup and hot tea and cider. Keep him in the hot water for hours, then towel him off and dress him warmly, wrap him in warm blankets. Did you really try to kill yourself, Alex?"

"No," he said, "I was just so desperate. How can someone who loves me be so cruel to me?"

"Because he is C.G.B. Spender," she said, "and with him, all bets are off."

************************************************************************

The man received several disturbing calls in the early morning regarding Alexei. The upshot of these was that Alex would be all right, thanks to the ministrations of Dr. Scully. He would rather not have had the opposition brought into this, yet he knew Scully as brilliant, brave, thorough, and knew Alex was in good hands. He really didn't know what he'd do without his Alex. He slept, breathed, and ate Alex; when he went into the saukh, there was Alex's glance of wildness, of mystery behind the turban, the chador; when he was served by that wretched whore, there were Alex's hands, his soft mouth; when the muezzin called people to prayer, there was Alex's strange and beautiful voice with all its microtones, calling weirdly to the morning.

I shall go mad, I shall surely go mad, he thought; yet he had still to meet with the French and American consulates. "What do you want?" he asked abruptly, after having been ushered into their fairly plush offices. The American Consulate-General came out from behind his desks to shake hands with him and the Well-Manicured Man. "It has come to our attention that you are importing some kind of weapon," he said, "and naturally, we wish to know what that is."

"There is no weapon," said the CSM mildly, lighting a cigarette, "these are merely personal computers, the prototype of which is in the warehouse at Thru-way Systems; yes, they have some novel characteristics, as do all new PCs on the market; but they can hardly be construed as weapons, gentlemen."

The Consulate-General nodded. "Well, we'll take a look at this prototype, and if it is, as you say, harmless, then you are free to import it in whatever quantities you wish."

"It's back at the Thru-Way Warehouse," said Monsieur LeBlanc, "and is not set up for operation; but you may take a look at it nonetheless."

They made a trip to the warehouse to view the computer. "All looks in order," said the Consulate-General. "I shall make a recommendation to the French Consulate General that is positive, and you gentlemen may continue on with your import/export business."

"I'm glad," said the CSM, lighting a cigarette.

Back at the hotel, he knocked on the WMM's door. "I must get back at once," he said. "Something has come up. Alex is ill."

The WMM nodded his head. "I know how important that boy is to you," he said, "and I can stay and finish the paperwork particulars."

"It will all be in English," the CSM said, "and thank you. I must take an early flight back."

He arrived in San Francisco at 2 PM and his limo took him immediately to the Portola Valley household. Bursting through the back door, not looking to left or right, he went to Krycek, who was lying curled in a ball under several blankets, only one ankle manacled. He produced a handcuff key and released him, then picked him up, blankets and all, with the utmost tenderness, and took him out to the living room. "Darling," he said, "it's me, and everything's going to be all right. Krycek's arms went sleepily around the man's neck. "You're back, and you still love me?"

"Alexei," the man said, kissing Krycek's upturned face, "I'll always love you. Be with me always, and never leave me. I have forgiven you your indiscretions. You are young, and the life-force boils in your veins. When it ebbed, I could have lost you in the mountains, and then how could I ever have forgiven myself?"

Krycek looked at him solemnly, leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. "If that's what you want," the man said, surprised. He gathered Krycek up again. "Bill, we'll be in the bedroom. Don't disturb us for any reason." 

Krycek showed him pleasures only guessed-at, the kinds of things he must have done with Mulder, exquisite, sensuous things that made him come again and again, till he could only hold the boy, his heart pounding, wondering what was coming next. He did notice the nipple rings and chain, but found them a turn-on: part of the beautiful prize package; and he nibbled the rings and pulled gently on the chain, getting ideas of what to do with them. They lay a long moment on their sides, chests barely grazing, touching each other's faces. Krycek captured the man's hand and sucked his fingers, one by one. Then he kissed the man, tenderly at first and then hard, deeply, and his arms went around him.

"I could hold you forever, Alexei," the man said. "There's no one like you, and I love you so much."

"Then you won't beat me?"

"No," the man said, kissing his throat. "There is no need. You're back in my arms, where you should be, giving me great joy and pleasure."

"I love you," said Krycek.

"I know," said the man.

************************************************************************

The Well-Manicured Man wrapped up business in Algiers; there were no problems and everything went smoothly. On the flight back he was entertained by a young man who must have been some sort of rock star; he had long hair, outrageous clothes and he wore makeup; but he was quite civil.

Upon arrival at his Atherton home, he went immediately to bed and gave orders to his servants not to disturb him. He slept deeply and soundly and when he awakened he found he had voicemail. One was from Spender, thanking him for finishing up the trip and assuring him that all was right with Alex Krycek. He was certainly gone on that boy; the WMM had never seen the like. He placed a return call but got voice mail: probably having non-stop sex with the young man. Not that he, the WMM, wouldn't have liked to; Krycek was gorgeous and sexy and appealing, and from all accounts the tiger to end all tigers in bed. But he seemed to have a bond with Spender, and wasn't going anywhere, unless, of course, it was to Fox Mulder's.

He decided on an English tea for his late meal, watercress and cucumber sandwiches. Really, the Americans were so uncultured, uncivilized when it came to food. They simply believed in a lot of food all the time. The tea was poured and the food brought, and he thanked the servant, an old retainer, a Miss Tolliver. The pronoun "Ms." had always irked him. Either a woman was a "Mrs." or a "Miss," and that should be sufficient for anyone.

The call came during his tea; the phone was brought to him and he answered it. "Yes?...Oh, are you?...Soon?...Tomorrow? All right."

Blessed man was meeting with the aliens tomorrow night. Well, he was surely glad it was not him.

************************************************************************

Alex Krycek was pulling out all the stops in his love-making, so much so that he held his partner in utter thrall. Just when he'd thought he'd experienced the ultimate pleasure, Alex came up with something different, new, exotic. "Alex," the man said, "I didn't know you knew..."

"I know everything," Krycek said, nipping at the back of his neck. "Follow me down the path of Eros, if you like...if you dare!"

"I like, and I dare."

They made love all night like two teenagers and didn't come staggering out of the shower till ten in the morning. "Well," said Bill Runningwater, pleased, "looks like someone had a late night!"

"That would be two someones," said the Old Man briefly, picking up his Wall Street Journal.

"I just want cornflakes, Bill," said Krycek. Runningwater handed him the cornflakes in a bowl and gave him the thumbs-up sign. Krycek tapped his fingers on the counter and thought of Mulder. Now he really was a slut, he thought. For the sake of peace and his freedom, he'd created a sexual Paradise for this man he was not likely to forget.

"Come sit next to me," the Smoking Man said, indicating a chair at the dining room table. Bob was there at the end of the table, eating his brunch or whatever it was he ate. Krycek obediently sat down next to the man and was hugged and kissed. "Darling," he was called, and "Sweetheart," and "Lisitsa," his special word.

"I have a noon meeting," he said, lighting a cigarette, "but I'll be back in the afternoon."

"You've got to have something more than coffee and cigarettes for breakfast," Bill Runningwater chided.

"I never liked breakfast," the man remarked.

When he left, Runningwater advised Krycek to have a "surprise" awaiting his return.

"I've got an idea," Krycek said. "Lock me to the bed again, but naked."

"Oooh, he'll like that," said Bill.

************************************************************************

Mulder was tormented, not knowing what to do about Alex, hating that he was suffering, and it was all his, Mulder's fault.

Scully came back with her report of hypothermia brought on by exposure to the elements, and her private opinion that it was a suicide attempt, and Mulder went mad, punching another hole in the sheetrock.

"You can't make it any better by getting upset, Mulder," she observed. "He'll be home soon and he will take care of Alex."

"Like he took care of him when he was chained to the bed then ran away on the horse?"

"Mulder, I know you find this hard to believe, but I honestly think Alex is in good hands now. He is safe. That man loves him, inasmuch as it is possible for him to love anyone. He doesn't want any harm to come to him."

Mulder shook his fist, which stung like anything. "Next time you try that, you'll end up with a broken hand, and you won't like that," she said. "I know it's hard, Mulder, here, come and hug me...Mulder, you have an erection, do you realize that?"

"Want to go to bed?" he asked hopefully. Then, without waiting for an answer, he bent and kissed her deeply, kissed her face, her throat and was starting on her chest when someone nearby cleared his throat loudly. "Ah-HEM," said David White, standing with his arms crossed. Mulder and Scully broke up quickly. "I was hugging her, then one thing led to another," Mulder said lamely.

"Yeah, I know all about you, Mulder, horn-dog of the century. Just you keep your paws off my wife-to-be or I will have to knock you around some." White was shorter than Mulder but tougher, and Mulder had no doubt he would hold good on his promise.

Mulder backed off, then went in search of Brian Johansen. He found him consulting on the phone with one of the field agents. "Absolute zip," he told Mulder, hanging up the phone. "They can't find the manufacturer of the chips. No one seems to know but the Consortium people."

"Bug the meetings?" Mulder offered helpfully. "Pick the lock, go in there and bug them?"

"That guy's way too smart. He'd know there was something wrong immediately."

"I have this harebrained idea," said Mulder. "Let's go find the UFO's. I think some of them are docked around here. The witnesses indicated they went in the direction of the Santa Cruz Mountains."

"Now, that is a harebrained idea," said Johansen, staring at him, "but it could work. We'll do it tomorrow morning, with Scully and White's acquiescence."

Scully and White both thought it far-fetched, but worth a try.

The morning dawned cold, gray and drizzly.

They went in the SUV, sloshing through the rain up Page Mill Road to Skyline. They pulled over while White consulted a map. "I've got a brainstorm," offered Mulder.

"Yeah," said White. "Any suggestions would be helpful at this point. We're just doing the most general reconnaissance here."

"I'm thinking of the Lockheed Santa Cruz facility," Mulder said.

They turned to look at him. "Of course," said Scully, "I mean, that's a 'duh', isn't it? Let's go take a look. Where is it, exactly?"

"It's at the top of Empire Grade in Santa Cruz," said Mulder. "I drove there accidentally, once. We have to get on Highway 9 from this one, 35, then take Ice Cream Grade up to Empire."

"Wow," said Johansen. "You know your way around here, don't you?"

They drove down Skyline to its intersection with Highway 9, and White turned right. The road plunged steeply and for a while the only sound was the spray thrown up in plumes by the tires, and the steady back-and-forth by the windshield wipers.

"The road's deserted," remarked Scully.

"It would be. Look at this storm!" said Mulder. At one point they nearly hit a deer, the headlights picking up its shining eyes. "Uncanny," remarked Mulder. "Now we have to go really slowly here, or we'll miss Ice Cream Grade entirely."

"Is this it?" asked White, pulling over and indicating a road which seemed to go straight up to unguessed heights.

Mulder craned his neck. "Yep," he finally said. "These roads aren't very well marked."

At the top of Ice Cream Grade, Mulder indicated they should go right on Empire Grade, and they drove for a couple of miles before coming to a gate. "This is it," Mulder said, "South gate, Lockheed Santa Cruz."

"Are there guards in that guard house?" Scully asked. "How do we get in? Is the fence electrified?"

"Yes, I don't know, and yes," said Mulder.

"Well, great," said White. "We've driven all this distance for nothing?"

"No," said Mulder thoughtfully, "not for nothing, I think. We could get in with a code name. Remember, like 'purity', Scully?"

"What would it be?" asked Johansen. "'PC'? 'Microchip'?"

"Something like that," said Mulder thoughtfully, "let's talk to the guy."

He got out of the car and walked toward the guard post. "FBI," he said, flashing his badge.

"Uh-huh," said the armed guard, unimpressed. "Code name?"

"Accelerate," said Mulder, looking him in the eye. 

"You can park over there," the guard indicated.

Mulder dashed back to the car. "What'd he say?" asked Scully.

"We're in!" said Mulder. "They're moving the gate back now."

************************************************************************

"The meeting in Algiers went well," the CSM remarked, lighting a cigarette. "I had to leave early on personal business, but my colleague," he said, indicating the WMM, "finished up. They have the prototype, and the first shipment should arrive in a couple of weeks."

"You encountered no trouble with the authorities?"

"The Franco-American consulates expressed some reservations, but once they'd toured the facilities and were shown the prototype, there were no further problems. They were just concerned that we might be importing a weapon of some kind."

"Which, of course, it is," said the First Elder thoughtfully, sipping at his cappuccino. "Do they understand that they are not to 'test-drive' these machines?"

"They understand," said the CSM, "although they do not know the complete reason why. And they shall not, until the products are moved."

"And people start dying like flies," added the WMM.

"Are you likely to encounter more 'personal business' in the future?" asked the Second Elder. Someone snickered.

"I'll ignore that," said the CSM with deadly calm. "Have I not told you that my business is mine? Anyway, there won't be any need. He's coming with me on future trips."

The First Elder raised his eyebrows. "He's not even been briefed, and if he were, he'd be likely to spill all he knows to the opposition."

"He doesn't need to be briefed," said the CSM, stubbing out his cigarette. "He'll be flying as my personal companion. If anyone has a problem with that, I'd like to know right now."

"I think it's dangerous," said the WMM, taking a gulp of caffe mocha. "He could nose around, find things out. He could prove the weak link in the chain."

"I've got him pretty well controlled now," said the CSM, lighting another cigarette. "I don't think you have to worry."

"He's a ... he's a triple agent!" spluttered the Second Elder. "Who can control him; who can trust him?"

"I can," said the CSM, exhaling smoke.

************************************************************************

"Face up or face down?" asked Krycek.

"Face up, I think. More stimulating this way," said Bill Runningwater.

"I feel faintly ridiculous," said Krycek.

"Don't," said the Indian, clipping him to the bed. "You look gorgeous."

"What's this?" came a voice in the doorway, then Runningwater was pushed aside. "Ah...ah, Alex! What a lovely surprise! Go on, Bill, leave us. Is that for me, Alex?" He stood over Krycek, kissed him, worked a finger up him. Krycek moaned, got even harder. "This is going to be very sweet," the man said. "Oh, so sweet!" and he unzipped.

"Alex," he said, afterward, unclipping him, "too bad you can't stay in this bed 24 hours a day."

"My muscles would go soft," Krycek said, "you wouldn't like that, would you?"

"So long as the one stayed hard, I could live with it."

Krycek had trouble dressing because as soon as he had one garment on, the man pulled it off. "You're better nude, my darling," he said.

"Want more?" Krycek asked. "That could easily be arranged," he said, and knelt before him.

While the CSM had lunch, Krycek, taking an umbrella, wandered out to look for Bob. "Is it wet feed again?" he asked the young man. "No, I found a finished corner of the stable to put it in," Bob answered. "Damned horses will all come down with colic and founder, if I don't cover it."

"Hey, Bob," asked Krycek, sidling up to him.

"Yowza," said Mr. Davis, avoiding his gaze.

"Did you enjoy sucking me off yesterday?"

Bob looked up, startled. "I didn't think you'd remember that," he said. "You looked like a goner for sure. I was only trying to help, Alex."

"And you did help," said Krycek. "But just don't mention it to the Old Man."

"He'd can me, huh?"

"Can you? He'd KILL you!"

"All right, all right," said Bob. "Do you think I should give Diablo oats now? He's thinned down some."

"Oats are fine. Want to go for a ride?"

"In the rain? Wouldn't we both get hypothermic?"

"Not if we dressed for it. C'mon, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Won't he mind?"

"Not if we get back when we say we're going to. Come on, you take Diablo, I'll take Guardian."

"You always take the faster horse."

"That's because I'm fast," Krycek said, winking. Bob needed no further encouragement. They saddled and bridled the horses. "Wait a minute," Krycek said, "I'll tell them we're going."

He stuck his head in the back door. "I'm going riding!" he called.

"Be back by dinner, or I'll send a search party out after you. Are you warmly dressed, Alexei?"

"Yes," Krycek said, indicating his sweater and jacket.

"Come and give me a kiss, darling...You're hard! We'll have to do something about that!"

The riding expedition was delayed by half an hour. Krycek appeared outside buttoning his jacket. "Ha ha, I know what you've been doing," said Bob, from Diablo's back, good-naturedly. How was it, he wondered, that the old guy rated and could do anything he wanted with Krycek, whereas he, Bob Davis, young and handsome, had to sit back and watch? He cherished the memory of that one stolen suck and hoped there'd be others. Alex was so tender, so sweet, not like other men, with a beautiful body and a face that launched a thousand compelling and extraordinary fantasies.

Krycek swung into the saddle and they charged through the pasture and over the fence.

************************************************************************

White parked the SUV and they bundled out, holding umbrellas against the sluicing rain. The parking lot was flooded and muddy. "What are we looking for, exactly?" Scully asked, heading for the shelter of a nearby walkway. "It's not going to be sitting out in front of God and everyone."

"It could be in one of these buildings," Mulder said. "Let me try this key-card."

They walked inside, their footsteps echoing in the vast halls. "Light," said Johansen, and threw a switch. The building appeared to be empty, but for a few quietly humming PC setups, desks and chairs. There was a big open space in the center of the building. "It's just a lot of nothing," said White, disappointed. "Let's try another building."

The second building was as empty as the first, as was the third. "I'm getting tired of this," said Johansen. "All these empty buildings! This is bullshit!"

Mulder appeared to study the situation. "All these empty buildings," he said. "But what if they're not empty? Come on!" he said, gesturing to the others, and entering the third building, B-C. "Look," he said, and walked to the center of the open floor. He didn't quite get there, however; as he bumped into something metallic and hard enough to throw him to the concrete floor. "There's something here!" he exclaimed.

"My God," said Scully, "he's right!" She ran to Mulder. "Are you OK? What did you hit? I don't see anything!"

White and Johansen were already engaged, by trial and error, in an exploratory feel around the edge of the thing, whatever it was. It was approximately saucer-shaped, with a circumference of 100 meters.

"We've found it," said White, awed. "Or rather, Mulder found it."

"It must have some sort of cloaking device," remarked Mulder, rubbing his elbow.

"Well, duh," said Johansen, but he was staring at the thing, or rather at the portion of the room that contained the thing, in wonder. "This is fuckin' amazing. I mean, we found one!"

"Let's go check the other buildings," said Mulder. "They all seem to have the same configuration."

They checked and found invisible ships in two of them. "Do you suppose there's anyone on board?" asked Scully. 

"I doubt it," said White. "In fact, I doubt whether these are actually in present use."

"They could open those bays and get the thing out that way," commented Mulder. "They might use it."

"Yeah, but where do they stay in the interim? The Holiday Inn?" asked Scully.

"They could stay on-site here, somewhere," said Mulder. "It's not completely off-the-wall to suppose they have some sort of accommodations here."

Unknown to the intrepid X-Filers, the guard at the gate had radioed in their strange behavior, going back and forth among the sensitive areas. While they sat debating on the aliens' whereabouts, a Navy helicopter flew overhead. 

"Oh-oh," said Scully. "Big oh-oh. I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather not be busted."

They closed the door behind them and ran toward the parking lot, splashing and mudding. The helicopter set down near their car and four soldiers, rifles at the ready, ran toward them. "Fuck," said Mulder fervently. The final passenger to disembark was a tall man in a black trenchcoat, tossing a cigarette onto the wet asphalt. The soldiers told the team to halt and they were relieved of their weapons.

"What did you see, Fox?" the man asked, walking close to his son. "Or what did you not see?"

"Nothing," said Mulder sullenly.

"Come, come, you must have seen something. You were wandering around this facility for two hours."

"I saw nothing," said Mulder steadfastly.

"Shall I ask the rest of you? Ms. Scully, White, Johansen?" They shook their heads.

"OK, I'm going to take one of you back and interrogate you. You decide who it should be. Be advised that my methods can be decidedly unpleasant."

"I'll go," said Mulder.

"No!" said Scully. "We found the alien craft, all right? Does that make you happy? You evil man, pah, I spit on you!" she said, spitting on the ground.

"That's what I wanted to know," said the man, lighting a cigarette. And we'll have to move them immediately, he thought. "Whose idea was it to come up here?"

"Mine," said Mulder. 

"Why?"

"I noticed that the witnesses said the craft went up over the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains."

"Ssh!" said Scully. "Mulder, don't give him any more information than you have to!"

"One more thing," said Mulder steadily.

"Yes?" the man asked.

"You've got my lover. Give him back!"

The man appeared to almost choke with laughter. "Fox, Fox, you must know that will never happen!"

"I'm glad it amuses you so much," said Mulder.

"It does. Give them back their weapons," the man instructed the soldiers. "Be on your way, my intrepid agents!"

They drove down Empire Grade with heavy hearts. "Hey, we found 'em," said Scully. "We'll find 'em again. And now we have something to tell Skinner."

"And you don't think he's got Skinner in his pocket? He has, he has," said Mulder sadly. "Dear old Dad. If one could only pick one's parents!"

"Mulder, you wouldn't be as bright as you are if he weren't your father. Had you ever stopped to consider that? I mean, you do value your brains, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Mulder. "Is that SNOW I see?"

************************************************************************

"Race ya!" called Krycek to his friend.

"It's an unfair match," said Bob, but he urged Diablo to his highest speed anyway. They tore over the wet landscape, the horses' hooves throwing up great gouts of mud. Krycek put Guardian at a tall fence, must have been six feet, and he cleared it with ease; to his surprise Diablo was over the fence a second later. They ran until they reached the outer limits of Foothills Park, then let the horses stop and blow.

"You did pretty damned well," said Krycek admiringly. "Diablo has racers on each side of his pedigree, but I've never blown him out like that and didn't realize he was that fast."

"A Quarter Horse will beat any Thoroughbred over a short distance," said Bob complacently, letting Diablo crop the short green grass.

"Do you like your job?" asked Krycek suddenly.

Bob shrugged. "What's not to like? I get to stay in a guesthouse with a Jacuzzi, I get paid incredibly well, I get to work with horses, and, well, you're around."

Krycek grinned. "You like me, don't you?"

"Alex, everyone in his right mind likes you and wants you, and anytime you want to join me in a Jacuzzi, you are certainly welcome. I'd make you feel really good."

"Yeah, you and who else?" Krycek smirked. "But thank you for the invitation!"

"You're welcome. Where are we going?"

"Up on Skyline, have a look around. Oh, damn, damn, I have to go back!"

"Why?" asked Bob, concerned.

"I'm missing a dose. If I don't get it, I start going into withdrawal and that is not pretty."

"All right," said Bob, "that's too bad!"

They rode down the hill slowly, unsaddled and groomed the stallions. "Hope that barn is built soon," said Bob. "Not good for the horses to be out in such cold wet weather."

"Well, the cold wet weather is keeping the carpenters away," said Krycek.

They went inside, Krycek expecting to see the Old Man still reading his paper, but he was out, said Bill Runningwater with a tense look on his face. "Have something to eat, you two, and Alexei, start thinking about something to do for him when he gets back."

"Like showing up at the front door dressed in Saran Wrap?" Krycek said blandly. "I'm beginning to think I've wandered into Fascinating Womanhood."

Runningwater laughed. "Run a hot bath, something like that. You know what to do, better than anyone."

Bob eyed them, first one, then the other. "You two are too much," he said at last. "Do you know a straight man's definition of a great date? The woman shows up naked."

"Well, I can certainly do that," said Krycek. "If I do, then you, Bob, look the other way."

"I'm used to it," sighed Bob. "You're always doing it on the sectional, the wall or the kitchen table. Like he can't wait to get to the bedroom."

"He can't," said Bill Runningwater. "Studies have been done of great men, showing that they have very high sex drives. Go run your Jacuzzi, Alexei, he should be home soon."

When he did arrive, he was directed to the master bath, where Krycek was lounging in the Jacuzzi, up to his chin in bubbles. He reached his arms toward the man. "Come on in and love me," he said.

************************************************************************

When their cell phones worked again, sometime midway down the steep and scary descent of Ice Cream Grade, Mulder and Scully each placed a separate call to Skinner's voicemail. "We found the alien craft," Mulder said, "up at Lockheed Santa Cruz, out in the boonies. They were invisible, although we could touch them; we think they must utilize some sort of cloaking device. No sign of the inhabitants, if indeed there were any. We were apprehended during our investigation by your friend and mine, who arrived by Navy helicopter with four armed troopers. He interrogated us briefly, threatening to abduct one of us and torture that person." He clicked off. "Oh, brother," he said. "One step forward, three steps back."

Scully turned to him, looking green. "I've got to get out!" she said. White pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and she ran out, vomiting into the bushes.

"I thought you were over that morning sickness," Mulder said.

"No, doesn't look like it, does it?" Scully asked. "Anyone have crackers? A 7-up?"

Scully had to call three more halts before they were down the Grade, then slumped exhaustedly in her seat. "I hate this," she said.

"Baby, we'll get you home soon enough, with all the 7-up and saltines you want, a hot water bottle..." said White, stroking her arm. "Thanks," she said gratefully. "I love you."

To their surprise, Skinner called Mulder back while they were still in transit. "Hey, A.D.," he said. "What do you think of the craft with the cloaking devices? Very Star Trek, yes?"

"I don't think they're in current use," said Skinner, "but I believe they could be pressed into service if necessary. They'll move them, of course, though how I don't know; maybe they'll fly 'em out."

"Can a human fly one of those things?" asked Mulder.

"We don't know. We think that, yes, it is possible."

"Good Lord," Mulder said, whistling. "Our, um, opposition is very much more involved with the aliens than even we guessed."

"He's a sneaky one," said Skinner, "and his reach is long."

Amanda Jones met with A.D. Skinner that afternoon in his office. "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier," she said. "Family problems."

"And don't you feel a bit shaky?" he asked.

"No, hardly at all. It's all so amazing, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Now, I brought you here for a purpose: I want you to tell me all you know about C.G.B. Spender's involvement with this case."

She nodded. "Well, for starters he screws his little boyfriend right in front of God and everyone," and was instantly contrite for having said that. "God...I'm sorry!" she said.

"His 'little boyfriend' being Krycek?" Skinner asked. "What exactly is Krycek's involvement in the case? I understood he wore a wire and picked up information about the Lone Gunmen's work."

"Yes, he did, the little rat. I believe he understands about the microchip but not the extent of the situation. Spender treats him like a mushroom: keeps him in the dark and heaps shit on him."

"I see," said Skinner thoughtfully. "So we do or do not have to worry about Krycek?"

"You know," said Amanda, "I think his heart is in the right place. I think he wants what we want. He's in an untenable situation at that house. He has to appear to be loyal to Spender. So, the upshot of all this is, I simply don't know."

"O.K. Now rack your brain and think of anything, anything you can, about Spender's involvement, his stewardship of the case."

"Well," said Amanda, "that's the problem. I don't know any more than you know, maybe less. Maybe you could help me by asking specific questions."

"Is he testing the microchip somewhere? If so, where? Intelligence has it that he and another member of that syndicate flew to Algeria the other day."

She shook her head. "That's news to me."

"The other thing that we desperately want to know is where the chips are being manufactured. We've combed the Valley and can't find anything."

"You might try looking in unexpected places," said Amanda.

"Now, why do you say that? That's interesting."

"It just came to me. Call it a hunch, or intuition. Just," she said, spreading her hands, "a guess. It's worth a try, isn't it?"

"Yes, but where would an 'unexpected place' be, I wonder?" said Skinner, his chin in his hands. "Chuck E. Cheese? The county landfill?"

She laughed. "And they say you have no sense of humor."

"Who says? Mulder? He would say that. So, are you coming back to work with us, Ms. Jones?"

She shook her head. "I have a sacred obligation not to. I'm going to go work at a homeless shelter or soup kitchen or some place like that."

"It wouldn't be because you're afraid of him, would it? Because I wouldn't blame you, if you were."

"Not afraid, precisely," she said thoughtfully, "just wary. Once burned, twice shy, right? Were I back on the case, he would take another crack at me, and this time I might not have the ministering angel."

"That angel thing...very interesting. Did you know that we had a real live angel, on our last case? Name of Sharon Green. Performed miracles on a daily basis, according to all accounts. Shortly after she died, the Catholic Church canonized her."

"I know her!" exclaimed Amanda. "That is, I know of her. Then it was she who came to me in the hospital and healed me...oh, I should get to Mass more often."

A.D. Skinner smiled. "I can't tempt you with a high salary, Ms. Jones?" he said, tapping a pencil.

"I'd do it for love," she said suddenly. "For the love of Mulder and Scully, and for the love of mankind, if I thought I could make a difference. But I can't. I can't make a difference, not in this arena. He is too powerful, A.D. Is there nothing you can do to stop him?"

He sighed. "If there were, I'd have stopped him long ago. No, there is nothing I can do, directly. I can't hurt him. We were hoping against hope that Alex Krycek might prove the key to his undoing, but Krycek will do nothing to harm him. Nothing," he said, snapping the pencil.

"I've got to go out in the evening, Alex, for about an hour or two. Can you amuse yourself?"

"Yes," said Krycek. "Can't I come with you?"

"No, I'm afraid no one can come with me. It's work only I can do. Tell you what, though, I'll be flying back to Algeria in a week or so, and you can come with me then. You can shop in the bazaar, tour the ...whatever. The important thing is that you be with me."

"Don't they frown on importing and exporting heroin in those Arabic countries?"

"It's all labeled 'insulin'," the man said smugly. "In sealed ampoules. The dogs can't smell through the glass."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Now, roll over, Alex, I want to see that great ass of yours...yes...oh God, Alex, that feels good...now...how does that feel?"

"Feels great!" Krycek gasped out.

"Don't come too fast...I want it to last."

A few moments later, he came into the sheets, moaning, and the man came into him.

Bob, on his way to the gym room to work out, happened, just happened to pause at the door, and he listened, fascinated. Boy, he would give ANYTHING to be able to trade places with the old guy at this moment! "Ah-hem," said a voice near his ear, and he started guiltily.

"Don't go getting any ideas," said Bill Runningwater. "Those two belong together, and together they will stay! Yes, I know what you did the other day! You won't get another chance like it, if I have to ban you and Alex from riding together, or even fire you, which I would hate to do, as you're an excellent employee and a nice guy."

"Oh," said Bob, "I'm sorry. I guess I've got a crush on Alex."

Runningwater put an arm around his shoulders and maneuvered him down the hall. "Everyone has a crush on Alex. You're so young and handsome, who knows? He may have a crush on you!"

"How can he...how can they...?" Bob asked.

Runningwater steered him toward the kitchen. "I've got homemade cookies and chamomile tea I grew myself...good for the soul! In answer to your question, if something happened to Alex, the Old Man would probably consider life not worth living, and if something happened to the Old Man...well, the jury's out on that. I suspect Alex would have a similar reaction. Here're the cookies, Bob, I'll pour you your tea...they're lovers, can't you see? Why does it seem so strange to people, when they don't bat an eyelash at an older man and a younger woman?"

"That's a good question," said Bob, munching a cookie. "It shouldn't matter, you're right, except in this case, Alex is also doing Fox Mulder every chance he gets. What's up with that, huh?"

Runningwater sighed. "Have you ever seen Mulder without his clothes? No? Well, you're really missing something. Every muscle defined. Like a Greek god. And the biggest whanger you ever saw."

"Oh, so Alex is a size queen, then?" asked Bob.

"Not precisely. If he were, then he'd be satisfied with the old guy, who is, you remember, Mulder's father. They share a 50% heredity. Mulder must've gotten 125%."

"Oh," said Bob, "you're gonna make me blush here in a minute."

"Well, don't, these are just facts of nature," Bill said calmly. "That tea is good for the stomach and just about anything."

"Don't you have a lover, Bill? I mean, you're not exactly old."

Runningwater laughed. "I'm not exactly young, either. And I've given up on the love stuff, anyway. It seems to have bypassed me for now, and maybe forever."

"Do you think you could be interested in someone like me?" asked Bob hopefully. "I've always liked Native Americans. A Navajo chief - how romantic!"

"Don't you think that one love affair in this household is enough?" asked Bill Runningwater. "Your tea's getting cold."

************************************************************************

"Wind singing through the manzanita, picking up the hackles of the delicately trotting dog in the field, evening sun dripping and sparkling so cold, so icily upon the ocean, the uncalm water, swelling and ebbing, above the gulls circle and cry, and my love, you are encapsulated in this moment, encased in crystal too soon to shatter, a tender, trembling bud of rose, of peony, bloom longer than this man's cycle through the heavens, through the seasons-Oh, crap," said Mulder.

"Why did you stop? I thought that was lovely," said Scully.

"I think it's garbage," said Mulder, crushing the paper and tossing it.

"You should send it to Alex," Scully said. "I'll bet the Old Man doesn't write him anything like that." 

"I'll bet you're right! He'd be ashamed to!"

Scully retrieved it, smoothed it out. "I'll put it in an album."

"What, the Mulder/Scully/Krycek/White/Johansen/Spender comedo/tragedy hour album?"

"You're too hard on yourself, Mulder. You can't get over the alien craft thing."

"Nor am I likely to," said Mulder. "You don't get over something like that, Scully. We had 'em, dead to rights!"

"Hey," she said, "at least we know they exist, and where they are, or were at any rate."

"Yeah, what do you bet Smokey moved 'em?"

"I wouldn't bet against you," she said. "Skinner said they could conceivably be flown by human pilots."

"Where would they go, I wonder?" he asked.

"Where, indeed? There's the whole Bay Area and surrounds to consider, and maybe more."

He considered, shook his head.

"Well?" she asked. "Don't tell me you're at a standstill!"

"There are a lot of mountains," he said at last. "A lot of folds in the Earth - thousands, Scully. I just got lucky with the Lockheed thing. It was a no-brainer. I wouldn't have a clue what to do next."

"Ask the Gunmen?" she asked.

"Ask the Gunmen," he said.

"You know, you're very overqualified for this sort of thing," said Father Kennedy, looking Amanda in the eye. "It only pays $8.00 an hour, benefits only after you've worked here 90 days."

"It's OK," Amanda said, interlacing her fingers on her knees. "I don't mind. I just want to help the poor, give something back."

"Do you realize that many of these people, aren't, uh, very grateful?" he asked. "That many of them resent you, because of their having to take charity?"

"That's all right," said Amanda confidently. "Really, it doesn't matter what they think of me."

"You've been an FBI agent making, what, 60, 70,000 a year and you want to do this?"

"Yes," she said patiently, thinking, the Smoking Man paid me more than four times that PER JOB.

"I see here you have a B.A. in sociology, a master's in social work? That will be just perfect for the job! I have the authority to hire you, if you'd like the job. The position will be as social worker at the new St. Sharon's Center over on 5th and Martin. It's a combination of shelter, soup kitchen, food distributorship, job center, counseling center and medical center." 

"That would be fine," said Amanda. "I know people who knew St. Sharon, in life."

"The lovely blonde girl, who died so tragically in Santa Cruz, California? She will be remembered forever. From what I hear, she is still working miracles."

"Oh she is, she is," said Amanda fervently, and began in halting terms to tell her tale. By the time she ended her eyes were streaming and Father Kennedy was wiping his furiously.

"Can there be nothing done, to bring this monster to justice?" he asked.

"No, Father, he is inviolable."

"Like the Devil himself," said Father Kennedy. "Well, he is answerable after death for all the mischief he has perpetrated during life! Now, more than ever, I want you for my shelter, Amanda. You've suffered too - you've been tempted by the Devil, and you have turned back! You have won a great victory, whether you know it or not."

"I guess," she said, "I guess I have."

The tall man walked to the end of the grassy lawn in Foothills Park. Thank God, there were no rangers about; that meant one or more fewer people he'd have to take care of. The craft appeared right about on time, but this time, only one of the entities came down from it. "You have arranged things in Algeria?" the being thought at him.

"I have," he said/thought back. "All is set for a week from tomorrow."

"Very good," the creature said, blinking its great black eyes once at him, "but several of our auxiliary craft have been discovered."

"I could not help that," he said. "The FBI agents, acting on a hunch, discovered them."

"Can you dispatch these agents?"

He shook his head. "I can't do that. One of them is my own son, who is on the master list."

"We won't ask you to kill him, because we know you won't," said the alien. "But we will ask you to keep him on a tight rein."

"I will try," he said, bowing his head.

"Very well. We want the report from Algeria next week, and we want the report from Pakistan the following."

"You shall have it," he said.

He watched as the alien returned to the craft and the ship sped away. Walking back to his Mercedes, he reached in his inside pocket for his cigarettes. Damn Fox anyway, he thought, not for the first time. I'm really going to have to lean on him.

************************************************************************

"Mulder," said that party into the phone.

"Fox, it is your father," said the calm voice.

"Oh, hi, Dad. Hey, loved that number you pulled with the alien ships! Couldn't have done better myself. Yessirree, you're Johnny-on-the-"

"Fox," said the man, "You're going to have to cool it with your hotdogging investigations."

"Why?" asked Mulder, looking at a map of Hollister.

"Because I say so," said the man.

"You're really serious, aren't you?" Mulder asked. "You really think that I'm like your minions, that when you say 'jump', I'll ask 'how high?'"

The man sighed, and there was the click of a lighter. "Back off now, and I'll keep you on the case."

"Ha! You can't take me off the case!"

"I can, and do you want to see how quickly?"

"I could conduct an investigation on my own, as you well know. Got anything to sweeten the pot?"

"OK. Back off now, and I'll let you see Alex Krycek. Frequently."

Silence. Stunned silence.

"Is this from the same man who vowed I'd never have his lover?" asked Mulder.

"Oh, you still wouldn't have him, Fox. You'd just have use of him."

"You make him sound like a car. Or a piece of meat. You're turning him into a whore, a white slave. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"Shame is for little people, Fox, not for me. Are you going to take me up on my offer?"

"Just a sec," said Mulder. He held the phone against his chest, counted off half a minute on the second hand of his watch, thumped his forehead and made faces in the mirror, then returned to the phone. "Yes," he said. "When do I start? Can you send him over tonight?"

"I've got him tonight. You can have him tomorrow night. You make sure he gets his shots. If he doesn't want to give them to himself, get Scully to do it."

"YOWZA!" shouted Mulder, vaulting over the couch. Scully, letting herself in, looked at him strangely. 

"Feeling chipper again, Mulder?" she asked.

"Yes! I feel great! Give me back that awful love poem I almost wrote."

She smiled. "Figure on seeing Alex again soon?"

"Yeah. Real soon," he said, grinning.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Indeed? And how does his ... um, person... feel about this?"

His "person" is just all right with it, Scully. "I dunno," he said carelessly. "It doesn't matter, does it?"

"Well, it does to some people," she said. "Mulder, what is it? You look like the cat who swallowed the canary."

He grinned, a flash of white teeth.

"Mulder, you weren't planning on bringing Krycek around here, were you? You know he's banned from this house."

"Maybe from you guys' flats," said Mulder, nonchalantly turning on the TV to the sports channel. "Not from mine."

She shook her head, bewildered. "I don't understand. Krycek wore a wire on us, Mulder! Skinner will have all our heads."

"Somehow, I don't think he will," said Mulder, reaching for his sunflower seeds.

"This doesn't make sense, Mulder. What's gotten into you?"

I just sold my soul to the Devil, Scully, and it was so easy, you have no idea. "It's nothing, really," he said.

"What's this? A map of Hollister?" Scully asked, looking at the map. "What's in Hollister, Mulder?"

"Nothing," he said, smiling at her. "nothing at all."

Krycek was sitting in bed reading The Lord of the Rings, but he looked up when the man came in, shedding his jacket and unknotting his tie.

"Let me do that," said Krycek, and finished undressing him. "I always thought businessmen were sexy," he said huskily.

Afterward, the man lit a cigarette. "I've got a situation, Alex," he began. "I do hope you understand. I've made a deal with Mulder, and you're part of it. Every other night you're to go to him, except of course when I'm out of town; I'll be taking you with me."

Krycek's jaw dropped. "You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm really not, Alex. This starts tomorrow night, and I will miss you, but at least I'll know where you are."

"What was his part of the deal? That he throw the case?" Krycek asked. "Because if that's it, I'd rather be Mulder-less and have the case alive."

"That's not your concern, Alex. I'd have thought you'd be jumping for joy at this point."

Krycek pulled his knees to his chin and thought. "All right," he said. "I do want to see Mulder, of course. I love you both, you know."

"Good boy! I know you do. I'm not asking Mulder to do anything that will bring harm to anyone."

"I hope not," said Krycek.

"We need a summit," said Scully grimly, opening the door to her flat.

"Why?" asked White, his nose in a book.

"Something fishy is going on with Mulder. All of a sudden he's ALL happy because he's going to be seeing Alex, and he's having Alex over."

"Why is that fishy?" White asked, trying to concentrate on the Fibonacci series as applied to nebulae.

She rolled her eyes. "You're not listening! He's not even supposed to be having Alex over, and he's all smug about it, saying it's his flat and not ours, without even a by-your-leave."

"Oh," he said, putting his book down on the bed. "What, should we do something about it? Maybe get a statement from him saying he'll make Krycek undress completely so there's no place to hide a wire?"

"Oh, you're impossible!" she exclaimed, sifting through her drawers for the perfect pink flannel nightie. "Shouldn't we all meet on this?"

"Nope," said White, who'd just gotten a call from an annoyed A.D. Skinner. "Let 'em have their fun."

"What is going on? I'm going to call Skinner," she said, and punched his speed-dial into the phone. "Oh, hi, A.D., I'm sorry to have to call you so late, just concerned about Mulder. Call me back, thanks." 

The phone rang almost immediately and she jumped. White looked at her over his reading glasses. "Are you going to get that?"

"Oh, hello, A.D. - Mulder's up to something. He wants to have Krycek over, can you imagine that?...Oh, he can? But...OK." She hung up. "Is this a conspiracy or something?" she asked. "He just told me it was OK for Mulder to have Krycek over whenever he wanted."

"That's nice, dear," said David White.

She made an ugly face at him. "What are you, a Stepford Husband? Will you look at me when I'm talking to you? Something's up and I don't know what it is, but I DO know that I don't like it one bit!"

"Darling, take a Valium."

"And how is it he can PLAN on Krycek coming over when Ol' Whats-his-Face won't let him out on a ten-foot leash?"

"I don't know, dear. Just leave it alone, OK?"

She looked at him and burst into tears. "You're all against me! I'm getting fat and ugly and nobody loves me anymore."

White put his book down again. "Dana, you're not fat, you're still as gorgeous as you ever were and I love you dearly. So does Mulder, so does Skinner and so, even, does Krycek. No one's against you. We just want to see Mulder get some kind of break. And, dear, you're pregnant; that's a big part of the problem," he said, gathering her into his arms.

"It's not a problem! It's a human being! Two of 'em!" she wailed, tears coursing down her face.

"Yes, two beautiful babies! You'll get through this pregnancy and you will be fine," he said soothingly. "This is part of your hormonal stuff, you know."

"I know," she sobbed, "I bawl all the time, and I can't help it."

"It's OK, dear," he said, wiping her eyes.

There was a knock at Mulder's door and he hurriedly put away the map of the Gavilan Mountains. "Come in," he called.

"It's just us," said Byers, letting himself in with Frohike and Langly in tow. "We got your note, about wanting to see us."

"Oh, that matter's been taken care of, guys," said Mulder. "Don't worry your pretty little heads about it."

"Hm," said Byers. "Well, there was this other matter."

"What other matter?" asked Mulder.

"This matter of your having Krycek over."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"We were just over at Scully's. We talked to her and White, and Johansen was there too, and evidently it's OK with Skinner if you have Alex over."

"Yes?" Mulder asked blandly. "Care for a glass of orange juice, guys? Diet Pepsi?" I don't need Skinner's permission, he thought smugly.

"We don't think it's a good idea. He wore a -"

"Yeah, yeah, he wore a wire. That was then, this is now."

"We're concerned," said Frohike.

"Yeah," Langly said, popping in a sucker. "Did you ever think to ask yourself how Skinner knew?"

"Oh," said Mulder, his blood running cold. "Scully called him while I was there."

"How is it," asked Frohike, "that the old man is cutting the kid loose?"

"Who the hell knows?" Mulder asked irritably. "Mine is not to question why."

"Mine is but to do or die," Byers finished. "I hope you don't end up dying, Mulder."

"That's an idiotic thing to say," said Mulder. Are you guys gonna watch the game with me, or not?"

************************************************************************

Mulder was up at dawn and over at Scully's. "Sorry," said Scully. "Just oatmeal this morning. I still feel kind of down."

"You're not depressed over something I've done, are you?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't know, Mulder, what have you done?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just the usual crap." Blow my nose, clip my toenails, cut a deal with the opposition that will result in our going down in flames, that's all, he thought. "I'm hungry," he said, "hungry enough to eat oatmeal," and he had a bowl.

"When's Alex coming over?" asked Scully.

He shrugged. "I imagine he'll be calling."

"Mulder, you're very closed-mouthed this morning."

And you're being a damned-nuisance nag, he thought. "I'm always quiet in the morning. I'm a night person, Scully, you know that."

"Mulder, if there's ever anything you want to talk about, please do know that you can talk about it with me," she said, blue eyes large with caring and concern.

"Thanks," he said, covering one of her hands with his. I'm such a shitheel, he thought. "I don't deserve a friend like you, Scully."

"Why do you say that? You deserve all the happiness in the world," she said and hugged him. Oh, if she only knew. She'd have him drawn and quartered.

The door opened and Johansen came in, raking Mulder with his dark-eyed gaze. "I heard from Skinner that you're allowed to have Alex Krycek over," he said. "What's going on, and who called Skinner anyway? I mean, how did he know?"

They all looked at each other. "I did," said Mulder lamely. "Then Scully did."

"I don't like this. Oatmeal for breakfast?"

"You don't have to eat it," Scully pointed out.

"She's not herself," said White mildly. "Hormones, you know."

"Oh, that's all right," Johansen said. "I don't care. Where do you think they're going to be hiding the alien craft next, Mulder?"

"I have no idea," he said airily.

"What about that map of the Hollister area?" Scully asked. "Do you think they could be down there?"

He looked at her, swallowed oatmeal. "I don't know, and I really don't care," he said. "What's the point, anyway, of chasing after the craft?"

"Because we could learn something from them, that's the point," said Scully, "what's wrong with you, anyway?"

"Nothing," he said, "absolutely nothing at all. I've never felt better."

His cell phone rang and he took it out. "Mulder...Hi, Alex! You are? Great, can't wait to see you!"

Johansen regarded Mulder, crossed his arms. "What exactly is going on here, Mulder? Don't you worry that his ol' man will find out and beat the stuffing out of him?"

"No," said Mulder, "I'm not at all worried. He's in a meeting, as we speak."

"How is it that you know that, Mulder?" asked Johansen.

"Alex told me, how else would I know?"

"I've got Mulder," said the Smoking Man, lighting a cigarette.

"Oh?" asked the Well-Manicured Man politely. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning his loyalties are to me now."

"How the hell did you manage to pull that one off? Did you threaten him? I wouldn't have thought that Mulder would have responded to a threat."

The CSM looked around the room at the assembly, sipped coffee. "I baited the trap with something he could not resist."

"What?" asked the First Elder. "Oh," he said, "I think I see."

"You gave him KRYCEK?" the WMM asked, incredulously.

"I didn't give him Krycek, I lent him Krycek. There's a difference."

"My God, man! You can't buy and sell human beings like chattel!"

"The parties to this transaction can. Anyway," said the CSM smoothly, "it's done; the important thing is that the MVP of that FBI team is now mine."

"You're not going to tell him all our secrets, are you?" the Second Elder asked.

"No," said the CSM. "I'm not going to tell him ANY of our secrets. He doesn't have a need to know."

Amanda started her new job with high hopes. She wasn't entirely sure of what she was doing, but she supposed that anyone in her position would feel the same. In the course of her first eight hours, she was given a tour of the facilities, which were rather impressive; helped package and hand out food; counseled a runaway teen and a young schizophrenic woman; and wrote reports on what she'd done. She had her own windowed office, complete with desktop and laptop computers, desk, chair and plants.

Father Kennedy came by at noon to see how she was doing. "I'm fine; I really like it," she said earnestly. He glanced at her forehead. Part of her head had been shaved for the surgery to remove the bullet, and she now wore a hat to cover the bald spot; but there was no scar, nor any other indication that she'd been fatally shot. He shook his head. It truly was a miracle. She noticed his look. "Yes, it's all healed now. The hair needs to grow back; that's it."

"In a couple of months you won't have anything to remind you of that terrible incident, and I'm so glad," said the priest.

"Me, too," she said. "I do have this persistent fear, though."

"Do you? Well, I'm sure that's perfectly normal."

"I'm afraid that if he were to learn I'm OK, he'd come after me again. I was even thinking about changing my name."

"The man is pretty vicious," he remarked thoughtfully, "and I can't guarantee that he won't assault you again, but I and everyone else here will pray for you. You do believe in the power of prayer, don't you?"

"I guess," she said.

************************************************************************

Mulder was so eager to see Krycek that he waited at the curb for him, chewing sunflower seeds and chucking the hulls in the street. The characteristic red Ferrari showed up after twenty minutes and pulled to the curb.

"Darling," said Krycek breathily, "love," walked toward Mulder and bent him backward in a bruising kiss. Krycek slid a hand down Mulder's jeans to find his cock, already standing at attention.

"Let's go inside," gasped Mulder. Krycek mashed him against the living room wall, pulled down his jeans, slicked his cock with lube and fucked him there, stroking him till Mulder screamed and spurted hot come all over his hand. Krycek followed him, holding him round the waist and pushing deeply into him as he came inside him with a groan.

"On the bed," said Mulder. "On your back." He slicked his huge cock and shoved it into Krycek, who moaned and gasped. "Fuck me, Mulder, fuck me!" he said, and Mulder was only too happy to comply. They came at the same time, screaming and scratching.

"Suck me in the shower," Krycek suggested, and they stood in the shower, soaping each other sensuously, the chest, the back, the legs, the ass. Mulder knelt in front of Krycek and took his cock in his mouth, licking, lapping and sucking, until Krycek shook all over and came with a shout. They switched places and Krycek took Mulder's enormous cock in his mouth, gulping it till the tip was massaged by the back of his throat, while his mouth and tongue licked and rubbed the shaft. Mulder didn't last too long under this treatment, spurting hot come in Krycek's mouth while calling his name.

"Now," Krycek said, "you're coming with me to brunch."

"Oh, where?"

"You'll see. It'll be really good."

Krycek pointed the Ferrari in the direction of home. It seemed to know the way, and before long they were past the gate and pulling up in the driveway.

"The brunch is here? Your home?" asked Mulder with misgivings.

"Yes. Don't worry, it will be fine."

When they entered through the side door, the man who had been sitting at the dining room table reading a newspaper rose and extended a hand to Mulder. "Fox," he said, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Thank you," said Mulder. Oh, God, this feels really weird, he thought.

"Hey, dig in," said Krycek, indicating the table. "We've got pate, caviar, lobster, crab, sushi, tempura, anything you want."

Mulder took some crab legs and tempura and a glass of champagne and sat down across from his father to eat. Krycek sat next to him and played footsie throughout the meal. The man seemed to be aware of this activity, but seemed not to mind. "He's yours today, Fox," he said. "Have there been any developments at your house you care to impart to me?"

"No, not really," said Mulder casually, cracking a crab leg, drinking from his flute. "Well, actually, see, they rely on my intuition a lot, and I believe those spacecraft are hidden somewhere in the Gavilan Mountains. I left a map of the Hollister area around on my coffee table, and Scully and the Lone Gunmen saw it."

"Tell me more about the Gunmen."

"You probably know about as much as I do. They are whizzes when it comes to electronic things, biological things; they're pretty paranoid; and they're incredibly bright."

"Yes, I knew all that. They figured out how the microprocessor works, didn't they?"

Mulder nodded, swallowed tempura, following it with a swig of champagne. He had begun to feel a little high. "The things we don't know," he said, "are where the chips are being manufactured, and whether they're being tested. Maybe you could tell me that," he said hopefully.

The man laughed. "And you would immediately tell your friends. I think not, Fox, not at this stage of the game. If you can earn my trust, then you can have the information."

"And how do I do that?"

"I think you can probably figure that out. Bring me information. Spy on your friends."

Mulder took another drink of champagne and barely hiccupped. "That's a tall order, you know. I love my friends. They're family."

The man lit a cigarette. "Don't you believe that blood is thicker than water? I am your family, your only family. Your place is with me. You may even live here if you like, although of course it would tip off the opposition."

Mulder looked at him and slightly shook his head. "Unreal," he said, "this is completely unreal. I'm dreaming it, right?"

The man inhaled smoke. "What do you think?" he asked. "Doesn't it seem real, you, me, Alex, the food and the champagne you've poured down your throat?...don't even think about driving today, Fox."

"'K," said Mulder. He rose, staggered toward the sectional, and pitched face-forward onto it.

"Geez!" said Krycek, running to him. He seemed OK, for an out-cold guy.

"Alex, help me get Fox to a bed," said the Smoking Man, stubbing out his cigarette. They half-walked and half-lifted him to the nearest bedroom and onto a bed.

"I really didn't think he was drinking that much," Krycek said. "He was probably very nervous, you know."

"He will learn not to be nervous around me. There's simply no need."

Mulder woke up in a strange bed, in a strange bedroom, in a strange house, and was disoriented until he saw Krycek sitting in a chair near the bed. "Where am I, Alex?" he asked.

"You're here with me," Krycek said.

"Yeah, but where's here?"

"My house."

"Now how did I get to your house? Oh, yeah, now I remember. I've got a headache," he said.

"You've got a hangover, or you've got a headache over recent developments?" Krycek asked, amused. 

"A hangover, I guess."

"We've got Imitrex and other things. Wait, I'll get some."

He came back with the Smoking Man, who gave him some pills, a glass of water and an injection.

"What is that stuff in the syringe?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"Just a painkiller, Fox. Don't worry about it. I have to go out for a while. You two amuse yourselves."

Mulder and Krycek showed up at the Scully/White household for dinner. "So where were you all day?" asked Scully.

"We went out to eat," said Mulder blithely.

"Really? Where'd you go?"

"Late for the Train."

"And it took you all day?"

"Scully, why are you giving me the third degree?"

"Just curious," she said. "We're having pizza delivered."

"Really? That's good," said Mulder, sitting down on the couch with Krycek, intertwined. One arm was around Krycek and the other sneaked down inside his jeans.

"It's bad enough you brought him here, now you have to compound it?" Scully asked.

"Scully, why are you turning into such a bitch? Is it your hormones, gone awry?"

She shook her head. "It might be. But at least go into a room or something if you have to do that."

Mulder kissed Krycek, lingeringly. "Spare bedroom," he said. "Take off your clothes." They walked down the hall, kissing, and into the room. Krycek pulled off his jeans, shorts and muscle shirt and sat down on the bed. "Which way?" he asked.

"How about sideways?" Mulder said. "Spoon. I'll fuck you."

He straddled Krycek, kissing his perfect lips, his chin, his throat, licked down his chest, circled the nipples and nipped and sucked at them till they stood up, licked down the center of his abdomen, sucked his navel, and licked and sucked his already rock-hard cock. Sitting up, he lubed his hand and cock, and they lay in the spoon position.

"One finger," said Mulder, sliding it into Krycek, who moaned. "Two fingers," he said, and Krycek groaned. "Three fingers, and now my whole hand," he said, and slid his fist in. Krycek moaned and writhed, bucking his hips. Mulder fucked Krycek with his fist until it seemed as though he would come, then slid it out and slipped his huge cock in, grasping Krycek's cock and stroking it at the same time. "Oh, God," gasped Krycek, and came, screaming, spurting all over Mulder's hand and the bed. His contractions stimulated Mulder's orgasm and he came in an incredible rush of pleasure, gasping, "Alex!"

"Is it worth it?" asked Krycek, afterward.

"Is what worth what?"

"You know. Is it worth selling out your friends, for the sake of having me every other day?"

"Alex," said Mulder fervently, "I love you with all my heart and soul, and yes, it is worth it. Anything is worth it, for you. Can you understand that?"

"Yes," said Krycek thoughtfully. "I think so. But there's a strong strain of sadness, of poignancy, to it. You've done something so terribly drastic. Do you really know the man you sold yourself to?"

"Sure," said Mulder, bravely.

"You don't," said Krycek, shaking his head. "You don't."

They made an appearance for pizza. Johansen eyed them throughout dinner. "Just where were you guys today?" he asked.

"We've already been through this. We went out to lunch and we bummed around."

"Oh, bummed around, huh? Hm," he said, taking a bite of pepperoni pizza. Later, he accosted them in the hall. "You guys want to do a threesome?" he asked hopefully. "At my place?"

"Any other time, I'd say yes, but not tonight," said Mulder. "Alex and I just want to cuddle."

Krycek and Mulder returned to Mulder's flat. Krycek couldn't wait to get inside before unzipping Mulder and taking out his huge hard cock, and he knelt to suck him outside the door. Whether it was the thrill of danger of being caught or what, he did not know, but Mulder came quickly in Krycek's mouth, groaning, his knees buckling under him. They found their way inside the house and Krycek bent Mulder over the kitchen table. "I'm gonna fist you, Mulder, then I'll fuck you," Krycek announced. He lubed his hand and inserted at first one, then two and finally three fingers up Mulder, who gasped and moaned. Then he slid his entire hand in, and Mulder nearly came right then. Krycek withdrew his hand and slipped his large hard cock inside Mulder, at the same time grabbing his cock and stroking it.

"Ah...AH," said Mulder, and splashed the table in a wave of pleasure and joy; then Krycek came inside him. "I'll rim you now, Mulder," Krycek said, and licked and sucked the tight bud till Mulder came again; and Krycek came watching him.

"Want to cuddle now?" asked Mulder. 

"Sure."

"What time do you have to be back tomorrow?"

"Sometime in the morning, I guess. Whenever. I can spend the night."

"Wanna take a bath together?"

"Sounds nice, but can we squeeze together in that little tub?"

"I think so."

"Something's up," said Scully.

"Yes?" asked White politely. He was reading Stephen Hawking's Universe.

"Why all of a sudden is he spending as much time as he wants with Alex? What's Alex's keeper got to say about all this?"

"Who knows?" said White wearily. "Come to bed, Dana."

"Know thine enemy," said Scully darkly, but she climbed into bed. "Dave," she said presently.

"Yeah hm?"

"I'm going to put in another call to Skinner. I don't like this; it smells bad."

"Why?" he asked, putting his book down. "Why not let those two have as much happiness as they can get?"

"Well, where were they today, for one thing?"

"What if they were watching the monkeys fuck at the zoo? Why does it matter?"

"It matters," she said firmly. "I can't put my finger on it, but it does matter. There's something going on that I have a really bad feeling about."

"Is this a woman's intuition thing?"

She nodded. "It might be. And an Irish-intuition thing. And maybe it's sharpened by my pregnancy."

"Well, intuition is often wrong, Dana. Please don't worry about it."

He wondered, though, as he picked up his book: who called Skinner first, anyway?

Mulder and Krycek put in an appearance for breakfast at Scully's. "You're still here?" Scully asked Krycek, ungraciously.

"I'm going home in a few minutes," he said, looking down. "I don't have to eat; don't trouble yourself, Scully."

"It's fine if you stay," said White. "Dana, where are your manners?"

"He's probably spying on us," she said bitterly.

"He's not!" said Mulder. I am, he thought.

"Doesn't he miss you?" she asked Krycek pointedly.

He shrugged. "I can't help that."

"Very cavalier of someone who gets beaten on a regular basis," she said.

Mulder cleared his throat. The clever Scully was getting too close. "We have to go," he said, rising from the table and taking Krycek by the hand. "Darling," he said, by the car, "I'm so sorry about her ill manners. I don't know what's gotten into her."

"She's naturally suspicious," said Krycek. "Don't worry about it. I'm not upset about it. Want to come home with me? We can eat there."

"I'm not hungry," said Mulder, shaking his head. "Just give me a kiss...another one...again...OK!" he said, releasing Krycek and slapping him on the rump.

He watched the Ferrari pull away from the curb and went back to the Scully apartment. Johansen and the Lone Gunmen were there now too. "We were just talking," said Byers, "about your map of Hollister. Do you think the alien craft have been hidden there?"

Mulder started. "No, I don't," he said casually. "Even if they were, we'd never find them. But I have this hunch they're north. Like even north of San Francisco, say. Napa or Sonoma County."

"Can you get any information out of Krycek?" Frohike asked hopefully.

"No, none," said Mulder. "He doesn't know anything anyway."

"Doesn't know anything of the production or testing schedules?" Byers persisted.

"No, nothing!" Mulder said, annoyed. "He's not acting in the capacity of spy, just of boyfriend, here."

"Hey, we're ready with the 5,000 units," said Michael Grainger, president of VisiTek.

"You're way ahead of schedule. That's very good. I will arrange to have the units picked up within the next few hours."

He hung up and dialed his contact at ThruWay Systems. "They're ready to go," he said. "Pick them up and ship them out."

Krycek came banging through the door. "Alex," the man called, gesturing to him, still on the phone. "Kiss," he said. Krycek went to him and kissed him meltingly. "Did you enjoy your time with Fox Mulder? Yes, pick them up today. I don't care; I really don't. Just you handle it."

"Alex, I've got a meeting today," he said. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I did," said Krycek.

"Have you eaten? There's breakfast."

"I haven't eaten yet. Scully was being shitty."

"It's her pregnancy," said the man. "Do you think she suspects?"

Krycek shook his head. "Who knows? I don't know how she can possibly know enough to suspect...Mm, lox?"

"You keep an eye on her; she's very bright and has a naturally suspicious mind," said the man. "The Project is finally going forward," he said. "We will give you and Fox information about it as time goes on, until you know as much as we do."

"Why not now?"

"I don't trust either one of you at this point, and please don't take it personally. I have to watch, to gauge the reactions of people like Scully and Johansen to your and Mulder's relationship."

"Oh," said Krycek. "Onion bagels," he said, looking at them thoughtfully.

"No one'll kiss you," warned the man.

Krycek took a big bite of bagel.

"Oh, hi, A.D."

"Scully, what were you calling about?"

"Mulder's acting funny and Krycek's around here a lot."

"You have to let Krycek be around a lot."

"Why?" asked Scully, popping vitamins.

"Because," said Skinner tersely. "That's just the way it's got to be."

"Now you're acting funny. What's going on, A.D.?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Got any information for me?"

"Mulder had this map of Hollister, which is a small town about 100 miles south of here, open on his coffee table, as if it were significant, but now he's saying the craft have been moved up North, to Napa or Sonoma Counties."

"No more wild goose chases, Agent Scully."

"Hey, the other day, in Santa Cruz? Not exactly a wild goose chase, was it? We found what we were looking for, in spades, and were doing fine until we were busted. By your friend and mine."

There was a soft "pop," which could have been the sound of a pencil snapping.

"A.D.?" Scully asked.

"Agent Scully, I'll have to call you back," he said brusquely, and hung up.

"What do you want?" he asked Associate Director Kersh.

"I just want to make sure that you're saying the right things."

"You know," said Skinner, "If you want to control me to that extent, I might as well throw in the towel. Tender my resignation. You and he have made my job a living hell, do you realize that? I'm trying to help these agents find the truth, and you're throwing up blocks at every bend in the road."

"I'm only following orders," Kersh offered.

"I know," said Skinner. "That's the hell of it."

"VisiTek is finished with the first units ahead of schedule," the man said, lighting a cigarette and shaking out the match. "I've arranged to have them picked up and flown out to Algiers today. They will go on the market immediately."

"Do you think one or more of us should go, to make sure things are handled correctly?" asked the First Elder.

"I'm going," said the CSM, "and I'm taking Alex. Any of you may volunteer to come with us."

"Does Krycek know anything?" asked the Well-Manicured Man.

"I've told you before, he knows nothing."

"Well, he'll learn something if he goes with you!" exclaimed the Second Elder.

"If he does, he does," said the CSM carelessly. "Are you coming with me?" he asked the WMM.

"Yes, I'll go," he said slowly.

"Alex! Alex, where are you?"

"Here," Krycek said mildly, coming in from his horses with Bob in tow.

"Alex, pack your bags. Take summer clothes. We're leaving here in an hour."

"Oh," said Krycek. "Is this the Algiers trip? It's happening?"

"It's happening."

"Insulin?" asked Krycek.

"Insulin. Don't worry about it. No one ever prevents me from doing what I want to do."

That's for damned sure, thought Krycek.

The Well-Manicured Man sat across the aisle from them in First Class, glancing up from time to time from his book. Krycek met each one of his glances, a subtle challenge in each look. On the third glance, he picked up the Smoking Man's free hand and kissed it, fluttering his black lashes. The WMM could not look away. The CSM reached in his pocket for his Morleys and Krycek took one, lighting it for him and putting it to his lips, bestowing another kiss to his hand. Damn, thought the WMM. I'm going to have to watch this all trip? Krycek gestured to him, and the WMM leaned toward him.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

The older man shook his head. This boy, with his matched set of father-and-son lovers, was very wicked. Too bad, he thought, too bad he'd passed him up.

They landed in Algiers, walked through customs without even having to show their baggage, and hailed a cab to the El Aurassi. "You'll like the bazaar, Alex," the CSM was saying to Krycek. "It's a lot of fun. Maybe you'll find something you'd like to buy."

Good, thought the WMM, he isn't inviting him to the meeting with Monsieur LeBlanc.

************************************************************************

"What's the matter, Mulder? Where's Alex?" asked Scully.

"I dunno," said Mulder, cracking open a sunflower seed. "He got called away, I guess."

"Mulder, I don't like this."

He rolled his eyes. "Which part of it don't you like?"

"All of it. First all this mooning over Alex, how you can't see him, how the Old Man monopolizes all his time, how you two hate each other and are always posturing and threatening and hitting each other over Alex. Now, all of a sudden, you get to see Alex for days at a time. You disappear for big chunks of time and can't account for your whereabouts. I don't know what's going on, but it makes me very suspicious, Mulder."

"What are you suspicious of?" asked Mulder, cracking another seed.

She sighed. "I don't know. I'm sorry to come across like such a bitch. I'm just really concerned, Mulder. Your habits have changed."

"Nothing to worry about," lied Mulder, looking at her with his big mild hazel-green eyes.

"You're not using drugs or anything, are you?" she asked.

"Nope."

"OK," she said, "your behavior fits the profile of a drug user's. Would you mind getting a urine screen done so I can be sure?"

Mulder thought of the painkiller in the syringe. "I'll do that later," he said.

"'Later'?" she asked. "As opposed to now? What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," he sighed. "Why are you being such a Nazi, Scully?"

"Here," she said, producing a urinalysis cup. "Pee in this cup. Right in front of me, if you don't mind, so I can see what you're doing."

"Christ, Scully," he said. "I won't."

"I would," said David White dangerously, coming into the kitchen. "It's nothing she hasn't seen before, Mulder."

"Shit," said Mulder, "all right," and he did. 

"I've got the strips right here in the bedroom; I'll be right back," she said.

"Positive for opiates," she announced grimly, coming back into the room. "I just hope you can show me the prescription, Mulder."

"I don't--I don't have one, Scully. I went to the ER with a blinding headache, they gave me a shot of something."

"Which ER?" she asked. "I'll call them to corroborate your story."

"No!" he said, "no, I was lying. Alex gave me something of his."

"I don't like the sound of that," she said. "The only thing that Alex has is heroin! Tell you what, I'll call him."

"He's out of town," he said.

"Oh, now that's convenient, isn't it? Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"You know that he's out of town, but you don't know where he is?"

"I'm tired of this interrogation, Scully. I'm leaving now," he said, picking up his jacket.

"You'll answer the lady's question," said White.

Mulder looked at him, opened his wallet and extracted a piece of paper. "I'll dial the number," he said.

"Krycek," said the husky voice.

"Alex, Scully wants to talk to you."

"Alex, where are you?"

"This is Scully? I'm out of town."

"Yes, I gathered that. Alex, did you give Mulder heroin yesterday?"

He snorted. "No way. That was Torodal. It'll give a positive for opiates, if that's what you're wondering."

She hung up the phone, reaching for the slip of paper. "Your story checks out, Mulder. Now I just want to see what this country code is."

"It's nothing," he said, grabbing the slip.

"Ooh, aren't you spooky today, Mulder! I take it wherever Alex is, he's not on some errand of mercy? And wherever he is, there is the Smoking Man also," she said musingly. "Why don't you tell me the country, Mulder?"

"I don't know it," he said desperately. "Now, I'm leaving." Before he left, however, he dialed a number, listened for a moment then replaced the handset.

Scully and White watched his departure thoughtfully.

"I think he's using drugs," said Scully at last.

"I don't think so. But I think that blood is thicker than water," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Scully in alarm. "Those two hate each other! You know that! They're at each other's throats constantly! And you don't know how many tirades I've witnessed of Mulder's when that man gets in his way!"

White just shook his head, very slightly. "Let's just wait on this," he said, "it could be premature. Let's wait for more evidence, if there is any. It could be just my imagination."

"God, I hope so," said Scully fervently. "Aw, he's just using drugs, Dave. Krycek was covering for him. We'll get him into rehab."

"Hope it's that simple," White said.

************************************************************************

They ate their evening meal at a French cafe. The Well-Manicured Man was treated to the sight of Krycek, sitting across from him, being fed like a baby by the man sitting next to him, kissing and sucking his fingers in an erotic display that made the WMM blush. No wonder the old man was so crazy about him; he was a very sexy young man.

"What?" asked the WMM.

"I was saying, they'll go on the market tomorrow. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," said the WMM. "Just enjoying the ...sights..."

The CSM smirked, lit a cigarette. "Look all you want, but don't touch!"

Krycek stuck out his tongue, then curled it around an asparagus spear. The WMM wondered whether he could contrive to get him alone somewhere.

"No," said Krycek insolently, as if reading his thoughts, "don't even think of it!"

************************************************************************

"Oh, hi, A.D., thanks for calling me back!"

"What is it this time? You think Mulder is using drugs?"

"Yeah, I made him do a urine screen. It came up positive for opiates. I called Krycek at some foreign number, and he said it was Torodal he'd given him. But Krycek's a junkie."

"What foreign number?" asked Skinner with interest.

"I don't know. Mulder dialed it."

"Don't you have speed-dial? You could have had the number at once."

"He dialed another number. Let me try it. Hold."

She hit speed-dial and got time.

"Nothing," she said. "He dialed time. He did it on purpose, to get the number out of memory." 

"I think that number is the key to cracking this whole thing wide open," said Skinner. You need to get it, at least get the country code. Can't you just ask Mulder for it?"

"He's acting very strange and I don't think he'd give it to me."

"I'll call him," said Skinner.

"Agent Mulder, what is going on?"

"Nothing," said Mulder. "What makes you think something's going on?"

"You have a number where Alex Krycek is. It's a foreign number, and Krycek is probably not on his own. I need that number."

"I flushed it," said Mulder. "I don't have it."

"Agent Mulder, you are this close to either being put in rehab or arrested for obstruction of justice."

"Go talk to your boss, Kersh," Mulder said insolently. "He'll tell you to leave me alone."

"Agent Mulder, I'm liking this conversation less and less. Would you please tell me what's going on? And give me that number!"

"Told you," Mulder said, "I don't have it."

He could hear fuming at the other end, and the sound of a pencil snapping. "I'm taking you off the case, Agent Mulder."

"You don't have the authority to do that," said Mulder calmly. "And I'll call Kersh."

"I consider you off the case. Go live somewhere else. I imagine you know where."

"I don't," said Mulder innocently.

"Don't imagine I don't know what's going on. I don't know how he did it, but he finally got to you, Mulder. And it's a damned shame. My finest agent, the head of the most important X-File team in history."

Johansen paid Mulder a visit. "What are you doing, Mulder?" 

"Packing," said that party.

"I heard from Skinner what's happened. You've gone over to the enemy's camp. Well, congratulations! With you on his team, he will win."

"No comment," said Mulder.

Scully showed up. "Come to the house, Mulder," she said. "Have a seat," she said, indicating a chair at the dining room table. "Would you like coffee or tea, Mulder?" she asked. "That's 'T' as in Treason, T as in Treachery, T as in Traitor and T as in Turncoat."

He rose. "I don't have to listen to this," he said.

"You betrayed us!" said Scully fiercely. "I hate you! Go live with him, go plot with him!"

"Now, wait," he said mildly. "Just because I lost Krycek's number is no reason to assume the worst."

"You didn't lose it. You've got it. Give it to us and we'll know you're innocent."

"No," he said.

"Mulder, do you realize what you've done? Somehow, I don't know how but I'll bet it's related to Krycek, he got to you. I know you're thinking, 'this man's my father, he's the only family I've got, my place is with him', but he's a monster, Mulder. He will devour you! Turn back now while you still can! Please! I know you love Alex, but he's not worth it! Don't sacrifice yourself! Alex wouldn't sacrifice himself! He loves the one he's with, Mulder, whoever that is. Please, please, Mulder," she begged, and burst into tears.

White rubbed her shoulders. "She's right, Mulder. Please see reason!"

"Don't do this, Mulder!" Johansen said earnestly.

"I've got to go now," said Mulder, and walked out the door.

************************************************************************

He arrived at the house in Portola Valley with his boxes and bags, and Laddie, and was buzzed through. He was met at the door by Bill Runningwater. "I heard," said the Navajo. "Your place is with us now. I've fixed up a room for you, private bath, even a Jacuzzi."

"What have I done?" Mulder asked. "Oh, what have I done?"

"What you should have done long ago."

"What, betray my friends, my country?"

"Don't look at it that way. Look, you have to take it on faith that your father is doing the right thing. I think he is; many people think he is."

"All right," said Mulder heavily. To his dismay, a tear oozed out of one eye and fell down his cheek.

"It's OK if you cry," said Runningwater. "This has got to be a terrible shock to your system."

"All my values, turned upside down," said Mulder, crying openly. "For the sake of Alex! He manipulated me; now I'm stuck."

The Indian placed a placating hand on his arm. "The transition has got to be really rough, but you'll make it. I can get you a tranquilizer, if you need it."

"So he can have both of us on drugs? Oh, he'd love that!"

The Navajo sighed. "It's just Valium, Mulder."

"Is it a pill or an injection?" Mulder asked, suspiciously.

"It's an injection. I'll get it...give me your arm."

In a moment, Mulder was laughing. "Is there any caviar left over?" he asked hopefully.

"All the stuff's in the refrigerator. Help yourself!"

************************************************************************

Late at night, the Well-Manicured Man knocked on the connecting door. "Yes?" the man called, sleepily.

"It's just me."

"Come in." 

The man was sitting up, Krycek sprawled all over him, asleep. "Quiet, I don't want to wake him," the CSM said. "What is it?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Check your voice mail. Mulder called me, looking for you."

"What does he need?" the man asked.

"He just called to let you know he's moved into your house, and that everything's fine."

"That's good. That's very good. I'm glad to hear it."

Krycek began to wake up, yawning and stretching, catlike.

"Alex, darling, Mulder's moved into our home."

"That's wonderful!" said Krycek. "That's great news! I'm so happy." 

The WMM watched, fascinated, as Krycek began to lick his way down the man's chest.

"Oh my God, Alex! That feels so good! Leave us!" he gestured to the WMM.

************************************************************************

Scully cried bitterly for about an hour, until her face was swollen and her nose and eyes were red. "I can't believe it!" she kept saying, "I just can't believe it!"

The team, including the Lone Gunmen, solemnly assembled for a summit meeting. "I'm team leader, since we no longer have Mulder," she said, and her face crumpled again. "So it's up to me to develop, with your help, a game plan. We need another agent to replace Mulder, so we're requisitioning one."

"I can't believe that he did that," said Byers somberly. Frohike was sniffling, and Langly studied his shoes.

"None of us can believe it," said White. "But it happened. Let this be a lesson: that man can get to anyone. Now, those two teamed up are going to be formidable."

"Scary," said Johansen. "Really scary. Maybe hopeless. I'm about ready to turn in my badge."

"Nothing's hopeless," said White staunchly. "I think we need time to get over the shock, then we need to get an operative over to that house."

Scully laughed mirthlessly. "That guy can smell a rat a mile off."

"We've got to try. We've got to try SOMETHING, and we've got to try it fast."

Scully tapped her lip. "Let's get Mulder's phone records," she said. "Why didn't I think of this before?"

"It'll take time," said White.

"Doesn't matter."

Hours later, they sat poring over the records. "Here," said Scully, circling a number. "Algiers. Algeria? They went to Algeria?"

She tried the number; it was answered "Hotel El Aurassi." "C.G.B. Spender," she said.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, that party just checked out."

"He's using his real name," said Scully, to the group. "He doesn't expect to get caught. And it looks like we just missed him."

************************************************************************

"If you're bored, Alex, you can watch the movie."

"No, I'm not bored. I didn't get my shot this morning," said Krycek, a little wild-eyed.

"I'll shoot you up in the bathroom. Go on, you go first...there, do you feel better?"

"Yes," said Krycek, gratefully. He made his way back to his seat and dozed for the rest of the trip. The limousine picked them up at the San Francisco Airport and whisked them to their home.

"Mulder's car," observed Krycek. "He's here."

"You'll want to greet him then."

"Mulder!" Krycek cried, opening the door. "Sweetheart!" and he flung himself into Mulder's arms.

"Good afternoon, Fox," said the CSM, lighting a cigarette.

"Hi," said Mulder. "How was your trip?"

"It was fine, as far as I know," the man said. "Are you all settled in?"

"Yes," said Mulder. "It's a nice room," he added idiotically.

"Do you like horses? Alex will take you for a ride today or tomorrow. He's yours for the next couple of days. I'm going to rest for a while. Alex, wake me up for dinner." He looked at Mulder, smoke drifting from his Morley. "Do you still think I'm a monster, Fox?"

"I don't know what I think," said Mulder honestly. "You haven't done anything monstrous in my presence." So far, he thought.

"I appreciate your honesty," the man said. "I'm lying down now."

"Mulder!" whispered Krycek. "Your room! Let's go!"

"Won't he hear us?" asked Mulder.

"No. These rooms are soundproofed, and your room is at opposite ends of the house from his. Scream all you want. And, Mulder," he said, taking Mulder's face in his hands, "I'm gonna make you scream. A lot."

They kissed all the way down the hall to Mulder's room, frantically undressing each other. Mulder pushed Krycek down on the bed. "I wanna fuck you so bad," he said. "Are you ready for me?"

"I'm ready," said Krycek. "Lube's in the top drawer."

Mulder grabbed the tube and squirted some onto his left hand and his dick. "Fuck me now!" Krycek said. "Don't worry about the fingers!"

"OK," Mulder said, and shoved his enormous cock into Krycek, who gasped and groaned. "Feels good," he said, "oh, so good! Fuck me!" Mulder was happy to comply, stroking Krycek till he arched his back and came all over Mulder's hand, screaming like a mountain lion; then Mulder came, yelling Krycek's name.

They lay side by side, hand in hand. "He's bound to have heard that," Mulder remarked.

"It doesn't matter," Krycek said. "This was his idea."

"You're right," said Mulder. "Then why does it seem like my idea?"

"Because you're just realizing that this is Paradise you've stumbled onto," Krycek said, grinning, a flash of whiter-than-white teeth.

"It's Paradise, watching you with another man every other day?"

"You don't have to look," said Krycek.

"So you think I'll adjust?"

"You'll adjust, Mulder. Beautiful surroundings, gourmet meals three times a day, and me, darling," Krycek said, kissing him.

"You realize that I turned my back on my friends and my career to come be with you?"

"Yes," said Krycek. "I recognize your sacrifice. He's making one, too, you know. He's in love with me, Mulder, just as you are. I'm the only one who didn't have to sacrifice anything in this deal. I got you out of it!"

"Wow!" said Mulder. "You're right!" He rose from the bed.

"Just there," said Krycek. "Now, stand against the wall like that. Perfect!" Krycek got up, catlike, and went to Mulder. "Just testing," he said, sliding a finger up Mulder. "Here's another test," he said, sliding a second finger and biting Mulder's neck. "And a third," and his ring finger went up. He lubed his cock and slid it in. Mulder moaned. "Like this?" Krycek asked. "Oh, God yes!" "Like it hard, like this? Or soft, like this?"

"Oh, GIVE it to me, Alex! And touch me!"

"In a mo'," Krycek said. "I want us to come at the same time...OK, how's that?"

Mulder groaned. "I'm gonna come soon, Alex!"

"OK, on the count of three...one...two...three!" and they came thunderously, Mulder splashing the wall, Krycek coming into Mulder's heat.

If their compatriot had heard anything, he said nothing of it at dinner, which was quiet. "How are you liking it here, Fox?" asked the CSM.

"I like it very much, so far anyway," said Mulder.

"That's good! If you've got regrets about leaving your friends, you can talk to any one of us about them. Those feelings are natural. They will try to get you back, Mulder. You're invaluable. For that reason, and because I love you, and I want my son working with me, I'm keeping you. You won't go back," the man said, lighting a cigarette. "You're here for good."

Mulder looked at his lobster bisque. It sounded so final! Krycek, sitting next to him, hugged him. "It's not just Scully who loves you, Mulder!" he said. "We all do."

Bill Runningwater smiled at Mulder. "It's true," he said. "We all care very much about you."

"There's only one thing missing," said the CSM. 

"What's that?" asked Mulder.

"The fatted calf."

************************************************************************

"So that was a dead-end," said Scully, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "We got the number, we got the hotel but the man had already taken off. I'll bet he's back home, and I'll bet that's where Mulder went, too."

"Why don't you give them a call?" White asked. "The number's in your appointment book."

She punched in the number and waited. "Oh, Alex, may I please speak to Mulder?"

"Mulder."

"This is Scully. So you ARE there, eh?"

"Nope, I'm not. This is a recording you're talking to, mediated by artificial intelligence loops."

"No need to be sarcastic, Mulder. Are you all right?"

"Never better," he said. "I'm actually as happy as a clam in a mudpot."

"Do you think there's a chance you'd come back to us?" she asked.

"Not a chance in a million, Scully. I've got my heart's desire."

"Yeah, that you sold your soul for. Please reconsider."

"No, I've suffered my whole life, Scully, I need to grab some happiness."

"At what price is that happiness gained, Mulder?"

"I don't care," he said. "I'm where I need to be."

He hung up. Krycek was talking to the Smoking Man.

"Alex, do you still feel that you would rather be Mulderless than throw the case?" asked the CSM quietly to Krycek.

"I've changed my mind," said Alex. "Now that he's here with us, I don't care what happens."

"That's the spirit!" said the man.

************************************************************************

Damn him anyway! said Assistant Director Walter Skinner to himself. He broke a pencil, sitting at his desk at night, thinking about Mulder. Never mind what he might do, and what he might, probably would tell Spender, just the fact that his presence was gone from the X-Files team was a dreadful thing, and would more than likely throw the whole case. I should resign, he thought bitterly. You bastard, Mulder. I hope you rot. I hope you die in the firestorm.

He'd received a call earlier, first giving him the number, which didn't pan out, of course; but he knew Spender had been in Algeria, for what reason he couldn't possibly have guessed; and confirming what he'd already figured, that Mulder had moved in with his father and Alex Krycek. Krycek. Somehow he was involved in this. Then he knew. The old guy had offered to Mulder what he could not refuse. So Mulder, despite his high ideals, his morals, his ethics, had been, like so many men, led by his dick. Like father, like son, Skinner mused moodily, putting his head down on his desk. The apple really doesn't fall very far from the tree.

"Assistant Director," came a voice from near the doorway.

"I'm resting," mumbled Skinner.

"It's Kersh," the man said. Oh, Christ.

"What do you want?" Skinner asked tiredly.

"I heard the news about Fox Mulder. It is a very grave thing," Kersh said.

Bet it's just breaking your heart, you old bastard, thought Skinner. "Yes, it is," he said. "We've lost our best agent."

"You still have three excellent agents working the case, and you're getting a fourth, to replace what you've lost."

"No one can replace Mulder. His brains, his drive, his determination. And it isn't even as if he died or something. All that energy, all that courage, all that intelligence will be put to work for the enemy."

"Yes, well," Kersh said. 

Skinner looked at him. "You don't care; in fact, you think it's great, because you work for him too."

"That's an unfair assessment."

"Why unfair? It's true."

"You get to pick your own fourth," Kersh said. "Think of it as a bridge game where all four partners are working together."

"How could that be, when our enemy holds every trump, ace and king?"

After he'd left, Skinner picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Ms. Jones?" he asked.

************************************************************************

"You want me to go to work for the FBI again?" asked Amanda. "I've already committed to working at a homeless shelter, number one, and number two, I don't want to be in a position which might involve killing. And number three, of course, is the man who nearly killed me. Once I bring myself to his attention, my life won't be worth ten cents."

"See if you can resign gracefully from your position. We need you, Amanda. We lost Mulder."

"No!" she cried. "He died? I'm so sorry!"

"He might as well have died," said Skinner glumly. "He went to live with his father."

"Why?" she asked, when she could speak.

"We think it involves Alex Krycek," Skinner said. "But that's not important; the pertinent thing is that we don't have him, and we need someone good to fill in for him."

"I don't know," she said. "I'll have to meditate on this one."

Hanging up, she counted her rosary and was soon in a deep meditative state. "St. Sharon," she said, "guide me." As she sat in a trance she saw a very pretty blonde woman, dressed in a white gown with a blue shawl, walk into the room.

"A very dreadful thing has happened," said the woman. "You may go back to California and finish the work you started. Go in safety, child. You will not be harmed."

Coming out of her trance state, Amanda dialed Skinner. "I'm going," she said.

************************************************************************

Mulder, looking at, touching, tasting the beautiful man lying next to him, couldn't believe his good fortune. "This isn't real, is it?" he asked, kissing Krycek.

"It is, my love. We've fucked six times today. That isn't real to you?"

"Sweetheart," said Mulder. "Let's fuck again." He licked Krycek's lips, down his chin, his throat, his chest, bit his nipples, licked down to his swelling cock and took him in his mouth. "Want me to suck you off?" he asked the younger man.

"That would be lovely," Krycek said. Mulder licked the head, down and up the shaft, swallowed him, sucked him until he came with a loud groan in his mouth.

"My turn," said Mulder. Krycek licked Mulder all over before taking his huge cock in his mouth, stroking the head with the back of his throat, licking the perineum, his balls, rimming him, and back to his cock. "I'm gonna come," said Mulder, and was seized by spasms as he came in great shuddering gasps.

Afterward, they embraced and drifted off to sleep. They were awakened by Bill Runningwater. "There's breakfast, you two," he said. "The Old Man's gone off to a meeting."

"Hey, do Alex and I ever get to go to those meetings?" Mulder asked casually.

"You will, after you earn his trust," said Runningwater. "Mulder, you have Alex again today; then the Old Man gets him for a day or two."

"Let's fuck in the shower," said Mulder to Krycek. "Do you mind, Alex, being passed back and forth like a party favor?"

Krycek shrugged. "No," he said. "Let's go!"

Under the hot shower, Mulder mashed Krycek against the wall and shoved his water-slicked cock into him. Krycek came at the first touch of Mulder's cock, then Mulder came in a few strokes.

"We'll fuck lots more today, OK?" said Mulder, toweling Krycek off.

"Oh, God, yes," said Krycek. "Now that you're here...it's so beautiful...God, Mulder, it's a dream come true!"

"Thanks," said Mulder, burying his face in Krycek's herbal-scented hair. "You're gorgeous, Alex."

************************************************************************

"So Mulder is actually living at your house," the First Elder marveled. "How did you manage that?"

"I made him an offer he couldn't refuse," said the CSM. "He'll be working for me actively, soon. As soon as I feel I can trust him."

"That really was quite a coup," said the Well-Manicured Man. "You offered him Krycek, and so ensnared him."

"Yes," said the CSM. "He's mine now, as he should have been all along."

"You don't think he's really an infiltrator, do you?"

"No," said the CSM, smiling wryly and lighting a cigarette, "I don't. Don't you think I can read people better than that? Mulder is for real, and he's mine. Now, the PCs are selling in Algiers," he went on, shuffling through some papers, "and I received a call from our contact at ThruWay Systems this morning. Six deaths, that they know about."

"So far, so good," said the Second Elder cautiously. "Are the operatives placed in such a way that they can verify these deaths but keep them out of the media?"

"Yes, they are," said the Smoking Man. "The next test is in Pakistan. I'm having 500 units shipped there. I'm flying over there next week...are you coming with me?" he asked, looking at the WMM. "I've already purchased your tickets."

"Yes," said the WMM. "Are you going to be meeting with the aliens tonight?"

"Probably," said the CSM. "They'll want to know about the deaths."

************************************************************************

Scully awoke. For one sweet moment, she was happy and contented, then the moment changed to horror and terror as she remembered about Mulder. "David," she said, starting to cry, "we've lost Mulder!"

"Looks like it," said White, lying next to her reading a book. "But you never know, Dana. He could come back to us."

"Ha!" she said. "He's with Krycek! How do you suppose," she asked, "they're working that out? Two jealous men, one Krycek?"

"Maybe they're sharing him," said White.

"That's it. That's how he got him," she said. "That's how he got Mulder. The one offer he couldn't refuse. But if so," she wondered, "then why didn't he make the offer earlier?"

"Perhaps he did," said White. "Remember, the incident on the sidewalk late at night, with the angel? You said they were looking 'very chummy'."

"That's right, I did, didn't I?" said Scully. "Maybe he was offering Krycek then. But where is Sharon this time around, when we really need her?"

He shook his head. "I don't have the answer to that one. Not at all. Want me to make coffee, Dana?"

"No, I'll do it. Starbucks?"

"Yeah. Are you hungry?"

"I'm always hungry," she admitted. "Eating for three."

************************************************************************

"Mulder."

"Mm?"

"Should we stay in bed all day, or do you want to go riding?"

"Well," said Mulder, "we've fucked in every possible position, and some that aren't. Let's fuck again, then go riding."

"Jacuzzi again?"

"Jacuzzi again."

They stepped into the huge tub of hot water. Krycek sat down. "Sit in my lap," he instructed. Mulder knelt, his cock rubbing against Krycek's.

"Mm," said Krycek. He took hold of both their cocks and stroked them, stroked them till they came at the same time, spurting into the water.

"That was good," said Mulder.

"Yes. Do you want to shower?"

"No, I like the thought of having your come all over me, all day long."

"You're sick," remarked Krycek, kissing him.

"As you can see, the stable is nearly finished," said Krycek. "Oh, it'll be super-deluxe!"

"He built that for you?"

"Yes. Just because I mentioned it. Cost two million to build."

"Shit!" said Mulder. "He's even richer than I thought."

"Much," said Krycek, "much. Here's Bob."

"You guys going for a ride?" Bob asked.

"Yep. Saddle Diablo for me; I'll saddle Socks. You've ridden Socks, Mulder. He's easy."

"Don't you want to invite Bob along?"

"Ordinarily I would, but I want it to be just us, Mulder."

They rode into the back of Foothills Park and up a steep hill. "This is my favorite vantage point," said Krycek, looking around him. "You can see just everything from here, even the bridges across the Bay."

"It's beautiful," said Mulder. Krycek dismounted and he followed suit; the horses bent their heads to the tender grass. 

"I want to fuck you," said Krycek. "Here's a blanket," he said, fetching it from Diablo's saddle. "Pull down your pants. Hurry!"

He mounted Mulder swiftly. Mulder groaned. "Does it hurt?" asked Krycek.

"Just a little. It's a good hurt. Fuck me, Alex!"

Krycek bent over him, kissing and kissing him as he fucked him. "Such...a...gorgeous...man!" Krycek panted, and came deep inside him. Mulder gasped and shot hot fluid all over himself and Krycek. "Well," said Krycek, rolling off him. "That was definitely a thrill!"

"Yeah, particularly since we're close to a trail here," Mulder said, eyeing it. "You are completely shameless, Alex!"

"Yeah, and you love it!" said Krycek smugly, and kissed him some more.

"How am I going to stand it when it's his turn with you?" he wondered.

"How does he stand it when it's your turn with me?" Krycek said. "He just does. As you will, Mulder. You'll know that in a day or so, it'll be your turn again."

"How did I let myself get roped into this arrangement anyway?" asked Mulder, pulling up his jeans. "Are you sure this isn't some weird, protracted dream I'm having?"

"I'm sure. I'm very sure. Come on, Mulder! You can't tell me you're not having the time of your life!"

"I'm having a great time," Mulder admitted. "I'm just wondering when it'll end."

"It doesn't have to," said Krycek, nipping Mulder's full lower lip, "ever, ever end."

When they got back it was early evening and the Smoking Man was waiting for them. Krycek went immediately into his arms, and Mulder felt a sharp pang of jealousy. "You'll adjust, Fox," the man said, noting his look, "I've had to. You'll get him tomorrow evening again. Come to bed, Alex."

Mulder watched them walk to the master bedroom, Krycek hanging all over the CSM. "How will I ever get used to that?" he asked Bill Runningwater.

He smiled at Mulder kindly. "You will. Isn't it much better, on balance, than stealing moments here and there with Alex, hoping you won't get caught, hoping Alex won't be punished when you are caught?"

"I guess so," said Mulder moodily, staring at the closed door.

"It is," said Runningwater, taking Mulder's arm and steering him toward the kitchen. "You've happened on Heaven, and you didn't even have to die to get there...Want to help me bake a cake?"

************************************************************************

Scully, White and Johansen met Amanda Jones at the San Jose Airport. "We're so glad you're here!" said Scully, beaming, as Johansen and White loaded her luggage into the SUV.

"Thank you!" said Amanda. "I've had misgivings, myself," she admitted.

"I know," said Scully, glancing at her forehead. "No trace of that bullet wound, Amanda, not even a slight depression. You're a living, breathing miracle!"

"Yes," said Amanda thoughtfully. "I was hoping to keep myself that way, but I've been directed to be here with you, come what may."

"We'll protect you the best we know how," said Scully. "You haven't come to his attention, yet, anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that!" said Ms. Jones. "I wouldn't be too sure of that at all," she said, thinking of Kersh. "Too bad about Mulder!"

"Oh," said Scully, "don't get me started!"

"Why did he defect, do you suppose?" asked Jones.

"He followed his dick, as he always does," said Scully bitterly.

"You said it, Dana, not me," said White mildly.

"Was it Krycek?" asked Jones in surprise. "He gave him Krycek?"

"We're thinking it might be a 'loan'," said Johansen.

Jones laughed. "You guys are too much! You can't be serious!"

"As a heart attack," said Scully. "Mulder's living at his house and they've got some kind of arrangement with Krycek."

"He gave up his friends, his job, his values, morals, ethics...to be with Krycek?!" Jones asked.

"Yes," said Johansen. "Try to get used to the idea. We're still trying, but it's been a big shock."

"I'll say!" she said, shaking her head.

Back at the Victorian, they helped her with her bags. "At least the Lone Gunmen won't be in as much danger now," said Scully. "He already knows everything Mulder knows, and Mulder knows what the Gunmen are aware of."

Scully paused on the stairs, a bag swinging gently from her hand. "It occurred to me," she said, "that shortly Mulder will know what he knows. That's the point at which we need to redouble our efforts to get Mulder back. I want to see that man brought to his knees."

"I know," said Jones, "and believe me, you're not the only one."

************************************************************************

"Were there messages?" the man asked Bill Runningwater, stepping outside his room and closing the door gently. "Alex is asleep," he explained.

"Yes, there was one from A.D. Kersh," Bill said, "here's the number."

"I have it." He punched a speed-dial and it rang at the other end. "It is I," he said, when it was answered, "what do you want?"

"Amanda Jones is back from the dead," Kersh said grimly, "and she's been deployed to Palo Alto."

"No!" the Smoking Man barked. "No! It can't be so! I killed her myself!"

"Nevertheless, she made a speedy and complete recovery, rumor has it with no brain damage, no scar even. And she's probably at that Emerson house right now."

"Do I have to kill her again?" he said.

"If you don't want her bothering you, you do."

"This is entirely unsatisfactory!" I could send Mulder to do it, he thought. Wonder if he would. He looked speculatively over at his son, who was slouched down on the sectional, cracking sunflower seeds and watching the sports channel. No, I can't ask him to do something like that at this stage of the game. He'd get spooked and run away.

"I'll take care of it," he said briefly and hung up.

"Fox," he said, approaching his son, "how are you doing?"

Mulder looked up at him and smiled his open, dimply smile. "Fine! I'm happy to be here!"

"I'm so glad," he said, squeezing Mulder's shoulder. "I've been trying for years to get you to join forces with me. I even tried a few weeks ago, as you recall, but something happened."

"Sharon happened," said Mulder solemnly. "St. Sharon, to be exact. I said 'all right' to you, and next thing I knew, I was back in bed and thought I'd dreamed it."

"This is the same Sharon we knew, Rose of Sharon Green?" the man asked with interest.

"The same. She appears as an angel from time to time."

"I wonder why she didn't try to stop me this time," said the Smoking Man, lighting a cigarette.

Mulder shrugged. "Maybe she had bigger fish to fry."

"I can hardly imagine that."

"You don't have a healthy ego or anything like that," said Mulder, grinning.

"One has to, to be in this line of work," the man said. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. You're a psychologist; you've got me pegged as an antisocial type, with narcissism, yes?"

Mulder went a little white. "I thought so," said the man, smiling slightly. "Read up on your DSM-IV, Fox. I don't meet the criteria."

"I'm sorry," Mulder said. "It's in my line of work to profile people."

"And you do a marvelous job. You can be of great help to me, in that and many other areas."

"What is your education?" Mulder asked curiously.

"You don't know? It's a matter of public record. Two doctorates, one in lit, one in physics, and an MBA, all from Harvard."

"What you could have done with all that," said Mulder.

The man raised his eyebrows. "What I have done with all that, Fox. I'm the most successful businessman in the world. I co-designed that microprocessor, and don't start, Fox, there are to be no secrets between us."

"Wow!" said Mulder. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Well, I can't turn back the clock; I can't make myself a young man again, can I?"

"You would like to?"

"Surely there are things we'd all like to do over. I'd like to be Alex's age again, or even yours."

"Oh. Then you have regrets?"

"No," said the man, grinding out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray. "I don't." He rose and went back to the bedroom.

"Well, you two have been getting along swimmingly!" said Bill Runningwater approvingly. "No fights, no disagreements even."

"I've only been here two days," said Mulder, cracking a seed. "Give it time!"

"That's a defeatist attitude. I predict you'll get along just fine."

Krycek came wandering out of the bedroom, stepping between Mulder's legs, turning his face up and kissing him. Mulder melted into the kiss, knew that this was truly Paradise.

"You can't be doing that," warned Runningwater. "It's not Mulder's day."

"It was just a kiss," said Krycek. "I thought I smelled something chocolate baking, Bill."

"There's cake, help yourself. Don't eat it all!"

"Alex!" came a voice from the bedroom. "Come back to bed!"

"Arf arf arf," said Krycek, and went.

"What's that mean, 'arf arf arf'?" Mulder asked.

"His master's voice," said Bill Runningwater. "He's your master now, too."

************************************************************************

"Mulder."

"Yes, Scully?"

"Mulder, I wanted to give you another chance. Maybe you've had time to think about things, and maybe you've changed your mind? And I'm also calling to check on you, see how you're doing."

"Well, thanks, Scully. I'm doing great! I've thought about things, and I haven't changed my mind. I like it here."

"Mulder. I know you like it there because Krycek is there, but look who comes with the package? You're subjecting yourself to the dominion of the Devil on Earth, someone you spent eight years fighting. How can you so soon forget this? How can you forget all the people he's responsible for killing? My sister; the man who raised you? And speaking of Krycek, I rue the day I ever met Alex Krycek, and I'm glad I didn't shake his hand!"

Mulder held the phone away from his ear and studied it as though it were an interesting species of insect.

"Is that Scully?" asked the CSM, from across the living room, draped in Alex. "Let me speak to her."

"Agent Scully?"

"Oh, it's YOU, you monster! You hound of hell!"

He laughed. "Ms. Scully, has your mother taught you no manners? We'd appreciate it if you didn't call here, bothering Fox. He's made up his mind; why can't you learn to live with that?"

"I'm not bothering him. I'm trying to present alternatives to him."

"You're bothering him. This conversation is concluding," and he hung up.

Scully's line went dead. "Damn him!" she said, "damn all of them! I hope they rot!"

"What's the matter?" asked White, coming up around her, encircling her enlarging belly with his hands.

"I was trying to talk to Mulder, when his keeper stepped in and told me not to call. I am just so frustrated, Dave."

"By 'keeper' I assume you mean the Smoking Man?" asked White, rocking her gently back and forth. "Why don't you give up, at least for a while? If he wants to return to us, he surely will."

She looked at him. "I don't know. The guy could be brainwashing him, hurting him, keeping him captive like he used to do with Krycek."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. Mulder is his flesh and blood."

She snorted. "He killed two of his other children, as you recall."

"Mulder's different. He really likes Mulder. He's not hurting him, Dana. I'll bet he's treating him really well. I'd stake my life on it."

"OK," she said doubtfully. "I'd better get breakfast going. I've only got enough eggs cooked for one, and I think I hear the bunch coming down the stairs and up the driveway."

"I can't get over what Mulder did," said Frohike, balancing a plate on his small knees. "It's as though he suddenly died."

"It's a hell of a lot worse than that," said Johansen grimly. "It's such a serious loss that I sincerely doubt our ability to continue."

"That's what he's counting on," said Scully. "We can't let him win! Come on, I want to see happy faces! Determinedly happy faces! Smile, everyone!"

A couple of people smiled fleetingly.

"This feels like a funeral," Frohike said. "'Would anyone like to say a few words about the deceased'?"

"Hey, that's actually a good idea!" said Scully. "How about, he was brilliant, brave, loyal, incisive, funny, beautiful--"

"And a good lay," intoned Johansen. "Correction: a GREAT lay!"

Scully blushed to the roots of her hair and giggled. "You said that just to make me laugh," she said to Johansen, who winked at her. White didn't appreciate this interchange at all.

"Hey, let's leave out the sex parts, OK?" he asked. "Mulder was hard-working, fun to be with, witty, sharp."

"Mulder thought we were smarter than we actually were," said Frohike. "He was a faithful friend. He had a good heart."

"Mulder was kind," said Byers. "He had an eager, open, questing mind."

"Mulder never called us nerds," said Langly. "He was a cool dude."

"I didn't get the chance to get to know Mulder very well," said Amanda Jones slowly, "but from what I could see, he was an incredibly loving and caring person. I think his best friend," she said, looking at Scully, "should say the final words."

Scully's eyes began to tear up. "Mulder never gave up. He fought the good fight. He didn't go gentle into that good night, not until the very end. He was courageous, and he didn't have just physical courage but the spun-steel moral and ethical kind of bravery. And I--I will miss him!" and she sobbed wildly.

White hugged her, comforting her. "I know how you loved him," he said softly. "I know that in some ways, you loved him even more than you love me. I know your loss is terrible. But you don't have to suffer any more for his sake, Dana. You don't have to carry his cross; it's his burden. You don't have to walk his trail of tears; it's his journey."

"How he could have consigned himself to an existence with that evil man, the most evil of men, just for some--some--" she looked at Johansen.

"Dick?" he answered helpfully.

"Yes, for some sex; sex that he could have gotten anywhere--"

"And did," grinned Johansen.

"And -- oh!" she glared at him. "You're not taking any of this seriously, are you? Why not?"

"Because the blamed man isn't dead!" said Johansen. "Let's get real! One of these fine days, he'll come crawling back on his hands and knees, begging us to take him back! And we will forgive him and welcome him back to the fold. In the meantime, he's having the time of his life, on that ranch with its Jacuzzis and pool and gourmet meals and fancy horses...hey, who got the Sheltie puppy, anyway?"

"He took it," said Scully. "No, he's not physically dead, but he's dead to US, to our world, Johansen, our values, morals, ethics. And, if his...parent has anything to do with it, he will never see us again, or if he does, he'll come back to us twisted,--"

"Bent?" asked Johansen innocently.

"You!" Scully yelled. "Get out of here and don't come back until you can function as a member of our team!"

Johansen rose and without a word left.

"What's wrong with him?" Langly asked.

"He's got a crush on Mulder," said Frohike. "In fact," he whispered, "they even did it together!"

"Eeeeww," said Langly. "How these gay guys can do it is beyond me."

"He's not gay, he's bisexual," said Frohike. "He even slept with Scully, you know," he hissed.

"I heard that, Froggy," said Scully, with a wry smile. "Just keep it to yourselves, OK?"

************************************************************************

"500 units were just shipped to Pakistan," the CSM said, lighting a Morley. "We're flying out day after tomorrow."

"Who are 'we'?" asked the First Elder.

"'We' are Alex and myself, and whoever else cares to join us. I've purchased several tickets, and whoever wants to may accompany us. You're going?" he asked the Well-Manicured Man.

"I suppose I have to," he sighed. "I wish you didn't have to take Krycek with you, though."

"And why not?" asked the CSM. "You wouldn't feel that way if he were Alexis or Alexandra, would you? I fear you are once again casting aspersions on my sexual orientation. Please don't."

The WMM sighed again. This was supposed to be a democratic meeting, and the man was such an autocrat, a veritable tyrant. And two days in God knew where in Pakistan, of all places, with him and his eyelash-fluttering, finger-sucking, chest-licking boyfriend.

"I'll go too," said the First Elder, unexpectedly.

"That's fine," said the Smoking Man. "I've got several rooms reserved at the Karachi Sheraton. It's in the province of Sindh, which has been home to some unrest lately, so dress and act conservatively. That's all."

************************************************************************

Bill Runningwater was busy in the kitchen and Alex had gone to his room to sleep, so Mulder wandered outside. "Bob," he called to the young man who was feeding the horses. "Hi! Want to go for a ride?"

"Sure, just as soon as I finish graining these horses," Bob said easily. "Go ahead and pick out a horse to ride. English or Western?"

"Oh, I don't care. I can barely ride anyway," said Mulder.

"I wouldn't say that at all," said Bob. "You have a nice, natural seat on a horse. So relaxed. We'll put you on Jeannette, Western, OK?"

"Sounds fine to me," said Mulder.

They rode through Wunderlich Park to Skyline Boulevard and back again. "See, you do great," said Bob. "Alex will probably be up," he observed.

Krycek was up but dragging around. "You had a late night and didn't get your shot," said Runningwater. "You'll have to wait for him to come back."

"Oh, shit," said Krycek, and yawned. "Where's Mulder?"

"He's out riding with Bob," the Navajo said.

"Oh, he is, is he?" asked Krycek, stung a little by jealousy.

Bill patted his back. "I'm sure they're not doing anything but riding."

"You don't know Mulder, if you assume that."

Runningwater rolled his eyes. "Sweet Jesus!" he said. "Such a jealous boy, and no need for it at all. Look, they've just come back."

The Old Man arrived at the same time. "Out having fun, Fox? That's good. The work will come later."

Mulder wondered what "the work" meant, and decided he didn't want to know just yet.

"Why do you call me 'Fox', when everyone else calls me Mulder?"

"I named you. It's an Indian name, a wild and honorable name. In fact, I got the idea from Bill Runningwater. Right, Bill?"

"Right, boss."

"My mind is slightly blown."

"Expect that to happen a lot. Some day, old memories of me may surface. I worked closely with Bill Mulder; I conducted a very long affair with your mother of course, and that's how she got you and Samantha; I was around the house a lot. When you remember, tell me. I want to know."

"Sure," said Mulder.

"I'm missing my shot," said Krycek.

"You are, and you stayed up all night without one, and you look like hell. I'll get you one."

Mulder winced and looked away when the CSM injected the drug into Krycek's arm. His drug addiction was a very bad thing, and Mulder longed to get Krycek into a hospital detox.

Krycek soon relaxed and lay on the sectional with his head in the Old Man's lap while that party read the paper. It was a reading household, Mulder noted. No one watched TV, at all, except for him.

"When do I get Alex again?" Mulder asked.

The CSM smiled his wry smile. "When I say so. At precisely 5 o'clock, which is half an hour from now, you may have him." He bent and whispered something in Krycek's ear, and Mulder saw Krycek nod. "You'll have to leave for now, Fox. Go to your room or something."

Squeezing every last drop out of him, Mulder thought, annoyed, but imagined that going to his room would be considerably more pleasant than watching what was about to happen on that couch. He played games on the computer and took a shower, and half an hour passed rapidly. There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said, and Krycek ran to him, throwing his arms around him and kissing him. "Don't worry, I brushed my teeth," he said wickedly. He kissed Mulder hard and pushed him down on the bed. "I'm gonna kiss you all over, Mulder, then I'm gonna fuck you like there's no tomorrow. You're gonna come so fast and so hard you won't believe it."

"Sounds great!" said Mulder.

Krycek kissed the top of Mulder's shaggy head, his forehead, his eyelids, nose, chin and mouth with its beautifully full lower lip; nipped it, bit it, licked it; kissed inside his mouth, tongues exploring and meeting; sucked his tongue, kissed down his throat to his chest, licked and bit his nipples (good; he'd put his rings in), pulled on the rings till he imagined it hurt a little; licked down the center of his belly, sucked his navel; kissed all the way down and then up each leg; finally licked, lapped and sucked his huge hard cock.

He lubed his hand and his cock. "One finger," he said, sliding a finger up Mulder; "two fingers," and "three fingers. Now my whole hand is going in, Mulder," and he slid in his fist. Mulder moaned.

"Alex, I'm gonna come soon."

"Wait. Come when I fuck you," he said, and mounted Mulder. Six strokes and Mulder screamed and spurted a fountain of hot liquid all over the bed, Alex, and himself. Krycek groaned and came deep inside Mulder.

"Each time is as the first," said Krycek, afterward, while they lay panting on the bed. "What's that quote from?"

"Star Trek. The Indian girl, Miramanee, something like that."

"Very good!"

"How long do I have you for this time, Alex?"

"Till we go on the Pakistan trip. Then he gets me, obviously. You get me back when we return."

"When do I get to go on these trips?"

"When he feels he can trust you. At this point he's just observing you, feeling you out, seeing whether you're cool, basically. When he decides that you are, you'll get more information, but you'll also get responsibilities. A job, Mulder."

"Oh," said Mulder. "Wanna fuck again? This time I'll fuck you."

"Yes!" said Krycek. "Fuck me like this," he said, rolling onto his stomach. "Don't even bother with the fingers. Just put it in me, Mulder, your great big beautiful cock."

"It might hurt," said Mulder.

"Maybe I want it to hurt a little. That's part of it," said Krycek.

Mulder knelt over him and shoved his cock past the tight ring of muscle. "Oh, God, Mulder, that's it!" gasped Krycek. "I want all of you! Now!"

Mulder penetrated him to his fullest extent and Krycek groaned loudly. "Oh my God," he said. "Fuck me, fuck me!"

When Krycek came, it was as if all the circuit-breakers in his brain were blown at once. He writhed, bucked and screamed. Seeing his orgasm, Mulder came too in a rush of intense pleasure.

"That was unbelievable," said Mulder. "You're the best there is."

"No, you are," said Krycek, tracing a line down Mulder's cheek.

************************************************************************

"We've had a number of deaths attributable to the microprocessors," said, or rather thought, the Smoking Man.

"Good, very good," the alien being thought back at him. "Has another shipment gone out?"

"Yes, it has, to Karachi, Pakistan. We're flying out in two days to discuss the matter with ThruWay and maybe with the authorities."

"When will this happen on a globally catastrophic scale?"

"I'm looking at a month from now. It could be sooner. It all depends on the production of these things."

"Go ahead, then," said/thought the creature.

Walking back to his car, he thought, this is hard and lonely work. How much better it would be if he had Mulder helping him. He just wasn't sure yet of his son, sure of his loyalty. It had only been a couple of days since his "friends" essentially drove Mulder from the Emerson house, and Mulder was probably missing them. If he missed them enough, he might eventually return to them with anything he'd learned in the interim.

************************************************************************

"Where'd he go?" asked Mulder curiously.

"Who knows? The 7-11? Actually, he often goes somewhere at night for a couple of hours, comes back looking frazzled. I have a theory about it."

"What's your theory?"

"I think he goes and meets with the aliens."

"Good God!" said Mulder, thunderstruck. "He doesn't really!"

"It's just a theory," said Krycek easily, "let's fuck some more. Roll over, Mulder. What a beautiful ass you have, you jock you."

"Thanks," said Mulder. "Get inside me fast!...oh, God, Alex, that feels good!"

"It's supposed to," said Krycek. "It's...supposed...to...feel...so...good...you'll never...leave me, Mulder!"

"I will...never...leave you, Alex," Mulder gasped, and came all over the bedding; shortly thereafter Krycek came with a cry inside Mulder.

"Who cleans up after us, anyway?" Mulder asked, touching the sticky coverlet. 

"I do, or Bill does. A laundry service comes three times a week to pick stuff up."

"Don't you have a maid or cleaning lady?"

"There's no one he can trust. Anyone could be a spy."

"Sounds a little paranoid," said Mulder, yawning.

"Yeah, well, where do you think you get it from?"

"Hey," said Mulder, "just for the sake of this ongoing nature-versus-nurture argument, please note that a) I'm a nice guy; b) I'm an athlete; and c) I don't smoke."

"OK," said Krycek, "a) he's a nice guy, if you don't cross him; b) he was quite athletic in his youth; and c) you don't smoke YET."

Mulder giggled. "You're too much, Alex! This whole household is too much!"

"Aren't you glad you're here?"

"Yes. It's like the sweetest dream, swirling through my waking thoughts, having you with me. I will never, ever leave you, Alex."

"I know," said Krycek. "Let's fuck again, then get some dinner."

Dinner was coq au vin, heavy on the vin. "Are you sure you burned all this off?" asked Mulder, beginning to feel a little dizzy.

"I usually don't," said Runningwater. "It adds to the flavor. But Mulder, you're drinking that pinot noir; that's what's doing it."

"OK," said Mulder. Beside him, Krycek twined an arm through his.

"Still liking it here?" asked Bill.

"Very much," said Mulder, spearing chicken. "I'm loving it here. I don't know why I didn't get here sooner."

The CSM came through the back door. He looked very tired, Mulder noticed. "I don't want much to eat, Bill," he said. "And how are our two youngsters doing?" he asked, looking at Krycek and Mulder.

"Fine," they said together. Mulder giggled.

"It's pretty good pinot noir, isn't it, Fox?" the man asked.

"Thank you, yes, it is."

"Tomorrow, if you can tear yourself away from Alex for a couple of hours, I want you to go to the Emerson house."

"And do what?" Mulder asked, in trepidation. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"You won't be hurting anyone, Mulder. I want you to talk to them. You can make it sound as if you're sorry, you want to move back in with them, etc."

"They'll quickly discover that's a ruse."

"They won't. I want you to re-establish friendly relations with them, so that you can get information out of them when you need to. Tell them you're being held prisoner here, I don't care what lies you have to concoct. Cry. Be dramatic."

"Wow," said Mulder, "that's a tall order."

"If you do it, I'll be in a better position to be able to give you information about our operations. And you want that, don't you? I certainly want to feel I can trust you, because I need you working alongside me. I really do, Fox."

"OK," said Mulder, "I'll give it a whirl."

"That's my boy!" said the CSM, lighting a cigarette.

Mulder left the table and retrieved the phone, punched in a number. "Put that on speaker," said the Smoking Man.

"Scully? This is Mulder."

"Mulder! How are you?"

"Um, well, actually, I'm not doing too well," he said, glancing at his father, who looked back at him, nodding slightly. "They're not treating me at all well, here, I hate it and I want to come back, but I'm held virtual prisoner here...I'll try to get away to come see you in the morning, OK?" Another nod.

"Good God, Mulder. Of course it's OK. Bring your stuff if you can, we'll move you back in."

"I don't know if I can, at this point," Mulder said carefully, glancing at the CSM, who shook his head vigorously. "He'll just come after me, the way he came after Alex in Santa Cruz, remember? So I'll just be by to say hi, all right?" This drew a smile and a nod.

"Oh, Mulder, you poor, poor thing! I feel so badly for you! Come by whenever you can!"

Mulder looked at the Smoking Man, who held up nine fingers. "I'll be by around nine, OK?"

The CSM pointed to Krycek, drew a question mark in the air. "Is it OK if I bring Alex with me? We're in the same boat."

"All right, I guess so," she said. Thumbs up from his father.

"Well," said Scully. "Mulder's coming by at nine, bringing Krycek with him."

"Oh, so he's crawling back on his knees after all? Didn't take long," White said thoughtfully, eating popcorn out of a bag.

"May I have some of that? It sounded like he had us on speaker. Why do you suppose he would do that? You'd think he'd want the conversation private."

"Who knows why Mulder does anything? I had a phone once that stuck on speaker, you couldn't get it off."

"Oh," she said. "Is there any pizza left from the other day? I'm so glad he's at least coming back to talk to us, aren't you?"

************************************************************************

Mulder and Krycek finally got to sleep around three in the morning, after making love for hours. At six, Krycek got up and rummaged around in the bathroom. 

"What're you doing?" called Mulder sleepily.

"Finding stuff," said Krycek tersely. "When you get up, Mulder, I need to do your face."

"What do you mean, 'do my face'?" asked Mulder. "Isn't it done enough already?"

"Ha ha. Come here, Mulder, I'll show you." He had Mulder sit at the lighted vanity, turned the lights to a daylight setting and picked up a plastic pot of eye shadow. 

"Makeup?" asked Mulder suspiciously. "What's this all about? Why do you have makeup sitting around anyway?"

"Sometimes I wear it, for him," Krycek said. "He likes it. Just eye shadow and mascara, Mulder, to bring out my eyes." Mulder made a face. "OK, see this blue/violet eyeshadow? Watch!" He painted some around Mulder's left eye with a small brush, smudged it. "And here," he said, painting on a "bruise," "and here!" painting on another one, being careful to blend each very carefully into Mulder's skin.

"You always were a master of disguise," said Mulder, wonderingly. "I'm going as someone who's been beaten to a pulp?"

"Yes. To make you more believable."

"Will I fool Scully? She's a doctor, remember?"

Krycek nodded. "I know. And you will fool her. I do a very professional job. Now get dressed and go show the Old Man."

"That's excellent!" the man remarked, turning Mulder's face this way and that. "You've even got the imprint of the ring, Alex. Great job!"

Driving down to the Emerson house, Mulder had butterflies. "What if they see through me?" he quaked. "Scully's sharper than a tack, you know that."

"I know that, and you will fool them, partly because they want to be fooled."

Mulder knocked at Scully's door. "Hi, Scully," he said, when she answered, stuffing a croissant in her face. "Muldugh! Hagh!" she said. "Excuse me for eating," she said, "I just eat all the time now. Hi, Alex, glad to see you. Look at you, Mulder, has he been hitting you? Oh, my God!"

"It's been hard," said Mulder, and damned if his lower lip didn't begin to quiver and a few tears began coursing down.

"Oh, poor baby...both of you, come in, come in!"

She sat them down and poured coffee. "So it's been hell, huh, Mulder? I'm so sorry! Why don't you move back? We can protect you."

He shook his head, cried some more, wondering if the makeup was waterproof. "You can't protect me," he said, "if he wants me back, he'll just come and take me. You know how he is." At his side, Krycek stroked his hair gently. "But I wanted you to know I'm still with you, in spirit if not in flesh."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Want to do some spying for us, Mulder? You're in a position to do that now. You could really help us out."

"Anything," he said. "What do you want?"

"Same things we've always wanted. The manufacturer of the chips; the production schedule; where they're being tested. We know, Alex," she said, looking at him, "that you and the Smoking Man were in Algeria, and as it's not one of the world's great playgrounds like Tahiti, we're assuming you were there on business."

Krycek looked uncomfortable. "I really don't know anything about it, Scully," said Krycek. I'm not a business partner, just a plaything. He tells me I don't have a need to know."

"Fair enough," she said. "We're putting out feelers to Algeria, but so far nothing has turned up. There's nothing in the media, not that the mass media in Algeria are either thorough or credible; it's one of those benighted Islamic countries."

And there won't be, thought both Krycek and Mulder. He'll make sure of that.

"No," said Mulder. "Then maybe we can assume it was just nothing."

"It's never 'just nothing' with that man," said Scully grimly. "He does everything deliberately; everything has a reason. Anyway, I realize you have to go back, Mulder, but at least you can help us out. You will help us?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," said Mulder wiping away a tear and looking surreptitiously at his handkerchief for tell-tale blue stains. There were none. "Anything at all, Scully."

"OK, do the best you can, Mulder. I feel so badly for you. My heart goes out to you, and no, I'm not in the least bit angry."

You would be, he thought, if you knew what I was doing. You'd bite my head right off.

"It's terribly hard, but I'll try to manage," said Mulder, thinking of the Jacuzzi, the better-than-great food, the pool, horses and the warm, softly-breathing presence of Alex Krycek at his side. "I'll do my best," he said staunchly.

David White came in from somewhere. "Mulder, Krycek," he said easily, nodding to them. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Beautiful," said Mulder mournfully.

White looked closely at him. "Whew, what a shiner! And those bruises! Someone been using you as a punching bag?"

"He is," said Mulder dolorously; Krycek drew closer to him. 

The rest of the gang showed up at the front door. Everyone greeted Mulder and Krycek effusively, and everyone commented on his "injuries." "I try not to think about it too much," said Mulder bravely.

"Hey, hugs and kisses," said Johansen, kissing Mulder warmly on the mouth. "You too, Alex," he said, and kissed him. "It's good to see you two! We'd all thought you'd fallen off the face of the Earth!"

"No," said Mulder. "But we might as well have. We never get to go out. We snuck out this morning -- he's at a meeting."

"Hey, do you know where he moved his meetings to?" asked Scully.

"Not a clue," said Mulder blandly; Krycek shrugged. "I'm not privy to that information either," he said.

"Well, if and when you find out, call us at once, OK? Now are you two staying for lunch?"

"No, I'm sorry, we can't. He'll be back soon from his meeting."

"OK," she said worriedly. "I'm so concerned about you! Are you sure you can't move back in, Mulder? Bring Alex, too, if he wants."

Mulder shook his head. "We really can't. I'll try not to run afoul of the old man and get hit again, though," he said.

"Good luck, Mulder," said Byers, grasping his hand. "You're going to need it!"

************************************************************************

"Oh, hi, A.D. Thanks for calling back so quickly."

"What's Mulder up to now? He hates it there, the old man is beating him?"

"Yeah, you should see his bruises, black eye, etc."

"I wouldn't have thought he'd be hitting him so soon. That generally comes later, with him."

"Yeah, well, believe it. We saw the evidence with our own eyes, and he was crying, too."

"Krycek was with him?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, that just seems odd...was Krycek all hurt and crying too?"

"No," said Scully. "Maybe he trades off. An equal-opportunity abuser."

Skinner laughed. "Maybe so. Did you ask Mulder to spy for you?"

"Yes, A.D., I did that."

"And what was his reaction?"

"Oh, he cried some more and said he'd do the best he could for us; kept saying he'd do anything, anything at all."

Skinner, playing with a pencil, thought about this. "What, specifically, did you ask him to find out for you?"

"The name of the manufacturer, the production schedules, and the test schedules. He said he didn't know anything at all about the significance of the Algeria trip, and Krycek said he didn't either, that he was just a plaything, not a business partner."

"Although Krycek went with the old man on that trip," said Skinner. "But it's true he does keep Krycek there for basically one reason, although the boy used to be a tolerable spy at one point. Well, look, Agent Scully. You keep communications open with Krycek and particularly with Mulder. Did you ask Mulder what the arrangements are with the Old Man vis-a-vis Krycek?"

"No, I didn't think to ask, but I will."

"It could be very telling, Agent Scully. Very telling."

"I'll call him as soon as I hang up with you."

She dialed his cell phone number. "Mulder," he answered.

"Mulder, this is Scully. I wanted to talk about something that Skinner asked about. What are your arrangements with Krycek?"

"What arrangements?" Mulder asked, reaching in the glove compartment, finding a paper bag and crumpling it next to the phone. "CAN'T HEAR YOU, SCULLY! TOO MUCH STATIC!" he shouted into the bag, then clicked the phone off.

"She wanted to know about you and me?" asked Krycek, piloting the Ferrari up Alpine Road.

"Yeah," said Mulder. "I had to stall her for a little while, until I could think of something to say."

His cell phone began to ring again. He answered it. "Scully?"

"Yes, Mulder, can you hear me now?"

He held the phone near the car radio until it must have buzzed very loudly in Scully's ear, shouted, "SOME KIND OF INTERFERENCE!" then clicked it "off."

"We'll ask the Old Man what to do," said Krycek, "He'll know what to say to her."

"Tell her that there is no arrangement," said the Smoking Man, lighting a Morley. "Tell her that I lied to you, promised you Krycek but didn't deliver, and that you are too terrified for your life to leave. And tell her soon, Fox. She'll be calling here. So you think they believed you?"

"Absolutely. They were 100% taken in," said Mulder.

"You must have cried, bemoaned your fate?" asked the CSM, lighting a cigarette.

"All of that," said Mulder.

"Then you did a great job! You're a fine actor."

"They wanted me to move in right away, of course," said Mulder nonchalantly.

"And what did you tell them?"

"That you'd come and get me."

"That much is true," said the Smoking Man, looking at him narrowly. "Don't think you can ever get away from me, Fox. You can't. You're mine now. You do understand that?"

"Yes," said Mulder. "It doesn't matter. I have no plans to leave. It's very pleasant here."

"And Alex is here."

"And Alex is here. Well, he's why I agreed to...our agreement in the first place."

"I know that. And I will never renege on my part of the agreement. See that you keep yours." He looked at Mulder. "I'm very proud of you, Son. Very proud. I wish I could have raised you, you and Samantha both, but this was back in the days before people casually left spouses for lovers...At least your first name is one I gave you." 

"So you knew even before I was born that I was your child? How did you know that?"

"Because she'd quit sleeping with Bill Mulder," the man said, stubbing out his cigarette and lighting another. "Then, a few years ago, I had the genetic tests done, and found that indeed, you carry my heredity."

"Wow!" said Mulder. "Look, I won't let you down, OK?" he said earnestly. "I take this as seriously as you do."

"I'm sure you do. I'm going out for a while. You and Alex enjoy yourselves. I will let you have an extra day with him after we get back, because you did so well today. You could even come with us," he said, "with the understanding that Alex and I share a room. Want to?"

Mulder thought for a moment. "All right," he said. "What about the tickets and accommodations?"

"Already taken care of, Fox. We leave here at 3:30 in the morning; be sure to pack conservative clothes."

"Do I get to sit in on your meetings?"

"We'll see, Fox. It's a possibility."

The phone began to ring. "Speaker," said the man.

"Mulder! Oh, I'm glad I got you at home! Are you all right?"

"Yes, my cell wasn't working properly, that's all."

"Mulder, why have you always got us on speaker?" 

He dashed into the kitchen. "I'm in the kitchen, getting something to eat!" he shouted. "I can hear you fine! There's no one else around!"

The CSM gave a thumbs-up to Mulder; Krycek came up behind him and encircled his waist.

"I wanted to ask about your arrangement with Krycek. Skinner wanted to know, and so did I, as a matter of fact. Are you two lovers, living there?"

The Smoking Man pulled on his Morley, shook his head.

"There's no arrangement with Krycek," Mulder said, breaking down and crying. "It was a lie, a ruse, a trick to get me over here." He looked over at the Smoking Man, who was smiling his wry smile and nodding.

"So you and Krycek can't even be together?" she asked sadly.

"Nope," said Mulder. "He's exclusive property of my father. If I touch him, I get beaten." More tears; the CSM handed him a handkerchief. "It's just awful, Scully," he sobbed.

"I'm so sorry. We're gonna work at getting you out of there as soon as we can."

A frown from the CSM. "I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment. He's got me barricaded behind this fence with the dogs, and even if I can manage to slip out again, believe me, he will come after me. He is ruthless, and relentless, Scully."

"Well, then I don't know what to do for you, Mulder. But please keep an eye out for production schedules, test schedules, and the manufacturer."

The CSM stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. He motioned Mulder over and whispered, "Cry some more."

Mulder burst into a fresh torrent of tears. "I'll try my best, Scully."

"Look, Mulder, maybe you're depressed and you need professional help. I can recommend a good doctor for you." The Smoking Man exhaled smoke, shook his head.

"Um, later, Scully, I have to get off the phone now, I hear people coming!"

"OK, I'll leave the doctor's name and number on your cell phone voice mail. Or why don't I just call you on a portable phone outside the house?"

"You could, but he's coming."

"BRAVO!" said the Smoking Man, clapping his hands. "What an actor you are, Fox! I am doubly proud of you. Now I'm giving you three days of Alex in a row. I may even let you have him for part of the trip to Karachi."

"Thanks," said Mulder, smiling his friendly, open smile. "This is working out well, isn't it?"

"It's working out incredibly well. You will go back in a few days, and you will learn all their secrets." The man rose and did something unexpected: he hugged Mulder. "I love you, Son. You are a credit to me! I will do everything in my power to make your stay here a pleasant one, and your association with me a fruitful one."

The man was very tall and Mulder, tall though he was, had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. "Your beautiful eyes are hazel; they say that the eyes are the window to the soul. What do you see in mine?"

"I see someone who loves me, has always loved me, protected me through all the dark years," said Mulder, wondering at hearing himself say this.

"You see correctly. I have always wanted the best for you, my fair-haired boy," he said, ruffling Mulder's hair. "And now, at long last, in my declining years, I can give you the best."

Mulder felt himself choking up. "Father," he said, "I love you too. You have my loyalty, no matter what."

"And together," the Smoking Man said, "you and I, we are unstoppable. There is some work to be done on your indoctrination. There are facts that must be imparted to you. I am not sure when exactly this is going to happen, but it will happen, until you know what I know. If something should happen to me during the process we must undergo, I shall name you as my successor. You'll carry on for me."

Mulder felt such a rush of feelings, anxiety mixed with extreme euphoria, that he thought he might pass out. "Whoa -- steady, Fox," the man said, and led him to the loveseat. "Here is Alex to minister to you." Krycek immediately draped himself over Mulder, intertwining arms and legs, nibbling his ear, running his hands through his thick hair, kissing him, kissing him, deep, burning kisses he thought would blister his lips, his mouth, his throat, his neck, the top V of his chest exposed by his shirt; he unbuttoned the shirt and kissed his chest, licking and sucking his nipples, pulling on the rings, licking down his abdomen, unsnapping Mulder's jeans, taking out his cock and licking it, sucking it till Mulder came in his mouth, arching his back, curling his toes and screaming. They fell apart. Mulder looked up. His father was still in his chair, smoking and watching them. "It's OK," he said, "I'm not a voyeur; I just like to pick up pointers, things that Alex and I can do."

"Want the nipple rings?" Krycek asked. "I'll pierce you and put them in."

"Why don't you save that for our trip? That looks like fun."

"I've got other ideas too," said Alex evilly. He rose and went to the man, whispered something in his ear.

"That sounds marvelous," he said. "Well, you two go to your room, or I'll be too tempted to snatch Alex back from you, Fox." 

************************************************************************

"How would you like to fuck, Mulder? Are you into leather?"

"I don't know. What have you got?"

"This," Krycek said, bringing it out from under the bed. It was some kind of leather harness affair.

"S & M?" asked Mulder.

"Well, it can be. It's more like just bondage, but I'll spank you if you want, or vice versa."

"OK, buckle me in," said Mulder. The harness went around his neck, across his chest, around each arm and each leg, and contained a leather pouch for the basket. 

"Now I'm cuffing you to the bed, upside down, Mulder. Have you been a good boy?"

"No, I've been a very naughty boy," said Mulder truthfully. He had a tremendous erection, wondering what Krycek was going to do. Krycek struck a stinging slap on his butt. "How naughty have you been?"

"Very, extremely, I betrayed my friends and my country," he said. Another slap. Krycek retrieved a wooden paddle. "This'll really sting, Mulder. Are you ready for it?"

"Oh, God yes," gasped Mulder. Krycek whacked him with the paddle, once, twice, four times. "Been a bad boy?" "Yes, oh yes," and Krycek struck him stingingly again.

"Now I'm gonna fuck you, Mulder," he said. "Here's one finger, here's two, and here's three. Now my cock," and he mounted Mulder, thrusting it home. Mulder could not remember having been so aroused, and when he came, he bucked and thrashed around on the bed; Krycek came immediately into Mulder's heat.

"I ought to leave you like that for a while and just tease you till I fuck you again," said Krycek. "Here, I'll detach you from the bed and you can turn over, so I can tease you," and Krycek cuffed him again. He extracted a feather from under the bed, stroked Mulder all over with it, stroked his cock. "Oh, God," said Mulder. "I'm gonna come from just this, Alex. Better fuck me soon."

"You wanna be fucked, do you?

"I do, now, please Alex!"

"All right," said Krycek, shoving himself home, stroking Mulder's cock and balls in their leather pouch. "Does this feel good, my fucking you?"

"Oh shit it feels so good, Alex! Yes...AAAAH!" he screamed, jerking convulsively, so hard that the handcuffs bit into his wrists, but he did not feel it. Krycek came soon afterward, sighing and then yelling, shooting hot fluid deep within Mulder.

"Here, I'll help you out of these things," Krycek said. "Want to do it to me?"

"I'd love to," said Mulder.

"Then help me put mine on." Krycek's getup included a blindfold. "Do me in front first, then in back," Krycek said.

Mulder grabbed one of his straps. "I'll do you how I feel like doing you, slave!" and shoved him down on the bed, cuffing his hands to the bed. He produced the paddle. "Now, have YOU been a good boy, Alexei, hmm?" he asked.

"You know I have been!" he said.

"Oh? Colluding with the forces of evil? Consorting with the enemy? And such a consort!" He swung the paddle and whacked Alex on the ass. "Ow!" he said. 

"Want another one?"

"Yes, please," said Krycek. 

Whack!

"Had enough?" 

"Yes."

"I don't think you have!"

Whack!

"Ah...Mulder, I'm gonna come!" and he spurted all over the bed.

"Now, I'm gonna fuck you," said Mulder, moving aside the strap that ran up Krycek's ass to slide in his huge cock. "Ah," said Krycek, who had another hard-on. "That feels good, Mulder!"

"Of course it feels good to have my great big cock inside you, doesn't it?" Mulder lasted through a few strokes and came with a roar, shooting into Krycek's ass; and Krycek came again. "Now let's turn you over on your back, Alex," said Mulder undoing and re-clipping the handcuffs. "I want you to watch something," and Mulder began to touch himself. Krycek was mesmerized. "God, that's beautiful! Put it in me, please put it in me," he begged.

"Suck it first," said Mulder, bringing his manhood near Krycek's face. Krycek eagerly lapped, licked and sucked it. "OK," said Mulder, "in it goes!" and he shoved it inside Krycek, who lasted about a minute before he bucked and screamed. Mulder came in great shuddering gasps, shooting deep into Krycek's ass.

"God, that was decent!" gasped Mulder.

"That was way more than decent!" said Krycek. "That was fuckin' great! Think you're in Heaven, yet, Mulder?" he grinned at his lover.

"It's awful damned close," said Mulder. "What was I sacrificing myself all those years for?"

"Challenge," said Krycek, sitting up, "when we take a shower together, to suck me completely dry, Mulder, no matter how long it takes? And I will do the same for you."

"OK," said Mulder, popping up, "if you'll get me out of this thing."

They showered and it took them two hours to suck each other dry. When they got out of the shower, dressed in robes, Bill Runningwater looked at them strangely. "That shower was going for hours! What were you two doing?"

"We had a challenge on," said Krycek, grinning. "Is there any more of that cake left?"

"Yes. Help yourself. You're looking too thin."

"Yes," said Krycek, "I suppose I am. Hey, this cake is great!"

"Thank Mulder, he made it!"

"I'm not packed," said Mulder. "I'll do that right now. Help me, Alex."

They went through his things. "Pack this Armani suit, Mulder, and maybe another one, just in case. Travel in your black jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, pack two or three of each, socks, loafers, dress shoes, gorgeous silk undershorts that I will have fun pulling off you, plus the rest of the crap you carry when you travel."

"I'll get you on the trip?" Mulder asked hopefully.

"He said you would, and I've never known him not to keep his word. But he'll have me for part of it."

"I'm glad," said Mulder. "I'm so glad," and practically from the second his head hit the pillow, he was asleep. Krycek lay alongside him in a warm embrace, able only to rest at this time of day. "My love, oh my love," he said, over and over, like a mantra, till he fell asleep.

************************************************************************

"We haven't had very many sightings lately, have you noticed?" Scully asked White, over dinner. 

"We haven't had any reported sightings," he said.

"Oh. That means that someone could be deflecting the reports?"

He looked at her. "I wouldn't put it past someone."

"Now, wait. This guy isn't God; he isn't omniscient and omnipresent. Or even omnipotent, though I imagine he THINKS he is."

"But he has friends, and employees, and colleagues and workers and minions all over the globe. He could arrange it."

"Shit!" she said. "Hey, where is everyone? I made this big pot of chili and no one came over!"

"Well, it's Frohike's birthday. They may have gone out to eat."

"Shit!" she said again. "I've been so worried over Mulder that I completely forgot...you think they would've said something to me! Well, I'll run to the store and get a cake."

She threw on a jacket and ran out to her car, driving to the Midtown Safeway. She decided she needed a few more things than just the cake, and was struggling with five cases of Coke when a man in line behind her helped her load them. Looking back to thank him, she froze. "Oh, it's you!" she hissed, nostrils flaring in dislike. "Don't they have grocery stores in Portola Valley?"

"They do, but this one was on my way," he said genially. "Let me help you load that stuff into your car, Ms. Scully."

They walked outside and he lit a cigarette. "You!" she said, "You've been beating up on Mulder! I hate you! I should have you arrested."

He looked at her and began to laugh. "You are welcome to try," he said.

"You can stand there and laugh when you're abusing people I love, and I can't do anything about it except maybe call you names, you bastard! I detest, loathe, revile and despise you."

"You are bright," he observed, "And I admire your spirit. What would you think about coming to work for me? It would be a challenge; I could use someone with your medical knowledge; and you would certainly never again have to worry about money."

She flushed bright-red and opened her mouth, but only strangled sounds came out. 

"I take it that's a no? Well, if you should change your mind, you know where to reach me. Is this your car? Let me load some of these heavy bags for you."

She drove back, fuming. The nerve of that man! She burst through the back door with her bags. "You'll never believe who I ran into at the Safeway just now," she said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, really? What'd he want?"

"Asked me to join his organization! The man just gets bolder and brassier!"

White nodded. "He'll probably try to recruit all of us...without the X-Files team, he has no opposition worth a damn. And he may succeed in buying one or more of us out; who can predict whom that might be?"

"Might be that Johansen," said Scully with some venom.

"What's he ever done to you?"

Scully looked at him and burst into tears. "He seduced me!" she wailed. 

"Oh shit, oh shit," said White, rubbing the back of his neck. "Care to tell me about it?"

She poured out the whole sordid story, ending by falling to her knees and begging him to forgive her.

"You know, I don't even think I'm angry. Not at you, though I am mad at that Johansen. He's a sleaze, and he would do something like that, to another man's fiancee. When he comes back, I will give him more than a piece of my mind," he said, thumping one fist into the palm of another.

"No, no, don't hurt him!" said Scully.

"I'm not going to hurt him, I'm going to punch him. There's a difference."

"Oh, please, no violence on my account! It was all my fault."

He shook his head. "It was all his fault."

"Oh, if our enemy could see us, how he would laugh, to see us divisive!" cried Scully. "We must not give him that satisfaction, if only in our minds."

"You're right. You're right as usual. Now, no more hanky-panky, or I will have to think twice about our relationship."

"Oh, no!" she said. "I promise! I love you too much to ever want to lose you!"

************************************************************************

The alarm went off at 2 AM, and a sleepy Krycek groggily arose from the bed. "Darling, Mulder, wake up! It's time to get ready to go!"

"Oh," he said, "is there time for a suck? I won't be getting you for another day or so."

"I'll suck you," said Krycek, and knelt and licked and sucked him till he came.

"Have you got all your stuff packed? What are you wearing on the flight?"

"On the flight I'm wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt, black jeans, a black suede jacket."

"Sounds yummy."

The CSM didn't show up at dinner; Bill would only say that he was "out," with no explanation, and a worried look on his face. "Probably meeting with the aliens again," said Krycek blandly.

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Mulder said.

"Alexei," said Bill warningly, "we can't have talk like that here. The Old Man will reveal what he wants and when he wants, to Mulder."

"It's OK," said Mulder. "I already knew. Is this boeuf bourgninon?"

"Yes, and there's cream of asparagus soup and a 3-colored tomato and scallion salad with Balsamic vinaigrette. For dessert, cream puffs."

Halfway through the meal the CSM showed up, greeted them and then sat down to eat. "You two," he remarked, "had better get packed, if you're not. We're riding first-class of course. Alex will sit in the middle between you and me; that way we'll share him. You have your choice of the first day and a half or the final day and a half with him in your room."

Something about "sloppy seconds" whirled around in Mulder's mind and he said, "The first, please!"

"That's fine," said the man. "Now if you'll excuse me I'll go to bed now. We have to make an early start, you know."

On the flight out, Alex took the central seat, with the CSM at the window and Mulder on the aisle. Across from him sat the First Elder and the Well-Manicured Man. This time the WMM got to see Alex go through his sexy routine with TWO men. He lit cigarettes for the CSM; he kissed him, rubbed the back of his neck; he nipped at Mulder's lips, played with his hair, nibbled his ear. He kept this up for the gruelling 15 hour flight, only once having to get up to go to the bathroom, with the Smoking Man following close behind.

"They're going to do it in the john?" asked the First Elder incredulously.

"He shoots Alex full of heroin!" hissed the WMM.

They landed and were driven by cab through narrow, winding and often cobblestoned streets to the Sheraton Karachi, a rather grand hotel, five stars.

Their baggage was portered and they were shown to their rooms. "This is nice," said Mulder, bouncing on the bed. "It's certainly a lot nicer than the motels I'm used to staying in."

Krycek couldn't get out of his clothes fast enough. "Darling," he said, "My turn! Suck me."

Mulder knelt in front of the nude Krycek and began to lick and suck him, licking his balls, his perineum, and rimming him; sucked his cock again till Krycek came noisily, shooting hot sticky liquid down Mulder's throat.

"Now," said Krycek, dressing, "they'll all want to go to dinner somewhere. I think casual. Your black jeans, loafers, long-sleeved T-shirt and black blazer will be just fine. It's about what I'm wearing."

There was a knock on the communicating door between their and the CSM's room. "Come in!" Krycek called.

"I see you're all dressed for dinner? It's fine if you're casual. Come on," he said, putting an arm through one of each of theirs. "They're waiting for us in the lobby."

They were, and the services of a cab were duly purchased. "What kind of food is this going to be?" asked Krycek.

"It's Pakistani. Expect some strong Indian influences. See, there is the bazaar. You and Fox might want to take a look at that. There are also mosques, for this is an Islamic country, museums and mausoleums; there is supposed to be substantial scenery, if you would like to ride a horse off into the sunset."

Krycek sat next to Mulder at dinner and they fed each other with their fingers. The CSM chatted desultorily with the WMM and the First Elder, only occasionally glancing, worried, in Krycek and Mulder's direction. "Mulder." "Yes, Alex?"

"Why don't we go fuck in the bazaar tomorrow?"

"What, are you crazy? They'd probably drown us or cut off our noses."

"Why don't we see whether we can find a place?"

"Ah, Alex, Alex," Mulder sighed. "Let's do the sightseeing out here, the fucking in there."

************************************************************************

"How do you manage that, man?" asked the WMM. "You're obviously crazy about the boy. How can you stand him being with another man, even if it is your son, or maybe especially because it is your son?"

"So far, so good," said the CSM, lighting a cigarette. "Cheap foreign cigarettes -- keep forgetting to get my own, and by the time I could have them shipped here, I'd be long gone. But yes, it does work out well. I get Mulder, plus I don't have to imagine the worst every time I go somewhere or even just turn my back for a minute, because they'd find ways to sleep together no matter what I did."

"Well I remember the beating, the whip, the chaining to the bed, Charles. Were you trying to control him?"

"Continuously, and the little weasel would always find a way to slip out. He was continually unfaithful to me. Now, there is no question of that, one way or another. It's all right under my nose. If I were to see something untoward, I could intercede. And," he said softly, "I learn things. I learn things about love, gay love, and about gay sex. I don't know how that could possibly make you blush," he said rather severely to the WMM. "I daresay you know about the birds and the bees. How many children and grandchildren do you have?"

"We're just not used to your being so open about it. We remember your affair with Teena Mulder; what a ladies' man you were!"

"And now, I'm queer," he said. "OK, get over it."

Krycek and Mulder left early to wander the streets of the bazaar. They passed many Muslim women in long chadors, booths and stalls filled to overflowing with colorful wares. "Those," said Mulder, pointing to a store filled to overflowing with rugs. He picked one out. "For in front of my bed," he said. He turned to Krycek. "How do you bargain?"

Krycek shrugged. "You make him an offer of X number of rupees...By the way, they'll take your dollars."

"Oh...what if I can't afford it?"

"You can. He hasn't paid you yet?"

"No. He's supposed to?"

"He will."

"This rug," Mulder said to the shopkeeper, pointing, "two hundred dollars?"

Much eye-rolling and invocations to the heavens. "Five hundred."

"Three hundred?" asked Mulder hopefully.

"Four hundred, and that's my final offer."

"Three-hundred fifty?"

"Done," said the shopkeeper, smiling and revealing many gold teeth. Mulder hoisted the rug onto his shoulders. 

"Damn," he said, "did I get that for a good price? I just don't know."

"I believe that rug would have cost you $3,000 in the States, Mulder. So, yes, you did."

They returned to the hotel and Krycek ordered room service: ice cream sundaes with a jar each of chocolate syrup and marshmallow sauce. "I won't ask," said Mulder.

"Lie down on the bed," commanded Krycek, and proceeded to paint Mulder all over with the chocolate and marshmallow. "Now I'm gonna eat it all off," he said. He licked Mulder all over, everywhere the chocolate had gone, and many places it hadn't, and Mulder became very aroused. Krycek was licking his cock when he came all over his face. "I like that," said Krycek, "I like it very much. Now my turn."

Mulder slathered the rest of the chocolate and marshmallow all over Krycek and licked and ate it off. When he got to Krycek's cock he licked and sucked till that party came in his mouth. "Now, a bath," said Krycek. They climbed into the whirlpool bath and added bubble solution; pretty soon they were eyebrow high in bubbles.

"Does this thing keep making bubbles?" asked Mulder.

"It does," said Krycek. "Here, get me from behind!"

Mulder placed his water-slicked cock on the tight bud and pushed it through. "Oh God," groaned Krycek. "Are you OK?" asked Mulder.

"Better than OK. I'm great! Fuck me, Mulder!" Mulder fucked him until they both popped, screaming and moaning. "My turn," said Krycek. "Turn over, Mulder, and I'll do you. Want the fingers?"

"No fingers necessary," said Mulder. "Just do it!" Krycek lodged his cock against the tight ring of muscle and shoved it home. "Ah...AAHH!" yelled Mulder, and came on the spot. Within eight or ten strokes, Krycek came. They lay for a long moment in the bath water.

"Shower off?" suggested Krycek, and they did.

A knock came at the connecting door at 6 AM. "Come in," said Krycek sleepily, pulling the covers up around him and the sleeping Mulder.

"Are you coming to the meeting this morning?" asked the man, lighting a cigarette. "If so, you'd better dress. In something other than your birthday suits."

They each dressed quickly in business suits. "Well, Alex," said Mulder, amused, "I haven't seen you in a suit in years and YEARS. This one fits you well."

"Thanks," said Krycek. "They'll be downstairs, waiting for us."

The three men were in the lobby and at the approach of Krycek and Mulder moved outside to hail a cab. The cab took them through many winding streets to what Mulder guessed were the suburbs of Karachi: homes and businesses. They stopped at a business with its name in Urdu, Arabic and English: ThruWay Systems.

A man was waiting for them at the door; the CSM stepped forward. "Ibn Al-Kazir, may I present my associates and my son." The Arabic-looking man in a sharp Pierre Cardin suit shook hands all around.

"We've received the units," he said back over his shoulder. "Some of them have sold already. Ah, here is my office. Coffee or tea, anyone? No? Well," he said, when they were seated, "we are aware of twenty deaths so far. Of course, Sir," he said, looking at the Smoking Man, "we've kept this out of the media."

"That was part of the agreement," said the CSM, lighting a cigarette. Behind him, Mulder mouthed "DEATHS?" to Krycek, who nodded briefly. "This is encouraging, Mr. Al-Kazir. We'll need a report on each and every fatality." Mulder's eyes got big. These, then, were the tests. The tests that were killing gobs of people.

After the meeting, they rode back to their hotel and had a champagne brunch. "You conducted yourself well, Fox," said the CSM, looking at him over the rim of his champagne flute. "Now that you have some idea of what we are up to, you're one of us now. To my son, Fox Mulder!" he said, raising his glass in a toast. "To Fox," they echoed, and drank. Mulder glanced at Krycek, who was beaming and looking at him proudly.

"What shall we do?" asked Mulder of Krycek, as they were riding the elevator upstairs. "Have fun, of course," said Krycek. "Am I one of you now?" Mulder asked. "What does that mean?"

"You know," Krycek said, as they walked down the hall, "there's a gang term, 'jumped-in', that means you get initiated by being beaten up by the other gang members. Well, you've just been 'jumped-in', by having your values and morals beaten up. You're one of us forever. There's no turning back, Mulder, not ever," he said, but he was smiling. "Now, Mulder," he said, pausing at the door and running his key-card through it, "what would you say if I told you I'd brought my handcuffs and stuff?"

"I'd say, let's go to it!" said Mulder, beating him inside. They shed their clothes frantically and Krycek pushed Mulder onto the bed, face-up. He cuffed him, hands and feet, to the bed and licked him up and down. Mulder's huge cock was straining. "Alex, fuck me!" he begged. "All right," said Krycek, stroking Mulder's cock gently. He sat back and lubed his hand and his cock, shoving one finger up Mulder, then two. Mulder moaned and asked for more, so Krycek fisted him. "Oh God," said Mulder, "that feels too good!" 

"'K," said Krycek. "Then how does this feel?" he withdrew his hand and shoved his cock up Mulder, who groaned and pulled against his bonds. "Like me to fuck you, Mulder?'

"Oh God, I love it, do it more, please!"

Krycek thrust his full length into Mulder, then out, then in again, stroking Mulder's cock in time to his thrusts. "I'm gonna come," said Mulder, "and it's gonna be...really...HARD!" and he screamed, shooting all over Krycek's hand. Krycek came within a few strokes, emptying himself into Mulder's heat.

"Whoa," said Mulder. "Each time it gets better, Alex!"

"Thank you," said Krycek, kissing and kissing him. "Your turn to fuck, Mulder." He unclipped the handcuffs and settled into position on his back; Mulder clipped him in the cuffs, leaned over him and kissed him, licked his perfect cupid's bow lips, thrust in his tongue, meeting Krycek's; kissed his throat, his chest, pulled gently on the nipple rings till Krycek squirmed and moaned, licked down his chest, his abdomen and took Krycek in his mouth. "Don't do that too long, I'll come in your mouth!" Krycek gasped. "I wouldn't mind that at all," said Mulder, around a mouthful of cock. But he sat up and lubed his hand and cock. Krycek moaned, "oh, fuck me, please, don't bother with the fingers!"

"OK," said Mulder, and slid himself in. "Oh, God, you're so huge, so fuckin' great," said Krycek. "Fuck me the hardest you ever have, Mulder!" Mulder shoved in to his fullest length, pulled back, shoved in again, stroking Krycek's cock. "Harder, Mulder!" Krycek cried. When he came it was in spasms so pleasurable he thought he'd die from it. Mulder came soon after, screaming, "Alex!"

"Can't they hear us?" he asked afterward. "We've got the Old Man on one side, the Well-Manicured Man on the other, the First Elder across the hall."

Krycek shrugged, regarded him with emerald eyes starred by black lashes. "It doesn't matter. What matters is us. Only us, darling," and he kissed him.

"When does he get you back?"

"Tonight, I'd imagine," said Krycek.

"Are you going to do the same things you did with me?"

"I'll do whatever he wants me to."

"Fuck!" said Mulder. "Don't you worry about his getting a heart attack or stroke or something?"

Krycek grinned. "Maybe. But what a way to go, eh?"

************************************************************************

As it turned out, the gang was all out grocery-shopping, and when they got in, there was a smiling Scully waiting on the steps, waving them into her flat. "OK, party hats, everyone!" she called. "Could someone lead us off? I can't sing! Amanda?" Jones led them in a rendition of "Happy Birthday," with Frohike blushing and looking at his feet. "That's really sweet!" he managed to say.

"Do you like chili?" asked Scully. "It seems to be what's for dinner!"

"Mm, with cheese and onions on top?" Frohike asked hopefully.

"Any way you like it, Froggy," she said affectionately, leaned down and kissed him.

When the cake was brought out, Scully said, "I really don't know how old Frohike is, so I put five candles on it...Now make a wish, Frohike!"

He closed his eyes and blew out the candles.

Cutting the cake, she asked him, "what did you wish for?"

"I can't say," he said, blushing again.

"If it was for Dana, you'll have to come through me first," said David White, eyeing him. "If it was for world peace, that's another story."

"I know what I would've wished for," said Scully, forking cake.

"I do, too," said Byers, "and believe me, he's at the forefront of all our minds. It's a very sad and dreadful thing."

Scully went to bed early and was soon asleep in White's arms. She dreamed that she was visited by a being of light with an indistinct face that resolved itself into a beautiful angel's visage. The angel touched her face. "You are all right, child," she said. "But...but Mulder isn't!" said Scully in her dream. "Things are unfolding exactly as they should," said the angel gravely. "We've allowed him to be with his father for a reason which is not now apparent to you, but which shall become so in the time ahead. Have patience, child, and have faith that he is not harmed."

"But he IS harmed! He's being beaten!" cried Scully. The angel cast her eyes down and smiled gently, but said nothing in return, and gradually faded away.

Scully awoke, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. "David! DAVE!" she said, shaking him. "What?" he asked.

"I had this dream. St. Sharon came to me and assured me everything's OK with Mulder."

"It will be," said White enigmatically.

"Dave? Dave? What do you mean by that?" she asked, but he had fallen back asleep.

************************************************************************

"Care to join me in the shower?" Krycek asked Mulder. "We could jack each other off. Anything more, I don't know; I have to get ready for him."

"It's all right," said Mulder. "Just a straight shower is fine."

They were toweling off when there was a knock at the connecting door. "Come in," said Krycek. 

"Oh, sorry, Fox. Alex, I'm ready for you. Don't get dressed, just come like that."

"Just a sec," Krycek said, unclipping the handcuffs from the bed. "OK, ready for you!" he said, holding them up.

That guy is gonna have a heart attack for SURE, thought Mulder, watching the door close. He stepped into his pajamas and threw on a robe, got into bed and turned on the TV, searching in vain for the Sports Channel. Most of the stations seemed to be in Urdu or Arabic or something equally foreign. The video selection wasn't great, either. This was an Islamic nation, and most of the interesting things were banned. Sighing, he picked up a book based on that silly sci-fi show starring intrepid FBI agents. When the couple next door started to get noisy, he dug in an aspirin bottle for the cotton and stuck a piece into each ear.

In a couple of hours the noise had ceased but he was no closer to sleep. He got up and knocked on the connecting door. "Come in, Fox," the man said. Mulder steeled himself, but the blanket was pulled up around the man and his sleeping companion. "What is it?"

"I can't sleep," said Mulder. "Do you have a Dalmane or Restoril or something?"

"I have Xanax," the man said. "Top drawer--no, where you're standing. There. Take as much as two milligrams, no more."

"Thanks," he said, stealing a glance at the sleeping Krycek, who lay with his arms around the man. Unbidden to his mind came Scully's, "Alex loves the one he's with," and he shook his head, trying to get rid of the image. If Krycek truly did love them both, then how torn-up he must feel, most of the time; yet he gave no sign of it, and was his cheerful, adaptive self with both of them.

Mulder went back to bed, closing the door softly behind him. He fell asleep quickly with the help of the Xanax; then before he knew it, his phone rang with the wake-up call. He dressed in one of his natty Armani suits and met the group assembled downstairs. "Another meeting?" he asked, yawning. 

"We're touring the distribution facilities," said the Smoking Man, lighting a cigarette. Ibn Al-Kazir's limo met them at the sidewalk and the driver helped them inside. They drove out of the city past the suburbs and a little way into the sandy desert, stopping at a large 4-story unmarked building. "I've arranged to have 500 more units shipped over here," said the Smoking Man to Mr. Al-Kazir. "And you told me there were 53 more deaths? This is great news!"

Ibn Al-Kazir nodded. "It seems to be working," he said. The door ahead of him had a tiny circular window; Al-Kazir put his eye up close to it. "Retinal scan," he said briefly. "OK, up on this catwalk," he said. "Here is the floor where the units are inspected and packaged for final sale," he said, indicating a vast space beneath them. "May we see them up close?" asked the CSM.

"Certainly," he said, and led them downstairs to the floor.

"Attractive packaging," remarked the CSM. "You're not having anyone test them, are you?" he asked, with concern.

"Oh, no, Sir."

"About how many can you ship out a week?" asked the Well-Manicured Man.

"Around 500 is our limit, at this point. As you can see, we don't have a great many staff." A young woman in a hairnet and gloves looked up and smiled at them.

"That's fine," said the CSM. "We're flying out again today," he said in the car. 

"So soon?" asked the First Elder. "Have we accomplished all we'd set out to do?"

"Yes," said the Smoking Man briefly, lighting a cigarette.

On the way back Krycek once again sat between the two men, again went through his sexy routine, arm around each of them, touching and kissing each in turn till the WMM thought he would barf. At one point a woman passenger, evidently lost, wandered into First Class. She stumbled over someone's foot, said "Oh, excuse me!" and fumbled with her purse. The stewardess appeared and gently directed her back to Coach.

The woman passenger, having been helped back to her seat, unclipped the tiny digital camera from her purse strap and loaded the three pictures she had taken directly into her laptop. Using wireless technology, she bounced her ISP's signal off a satellite and beamed the pictures to her organization for analysis.

************************************************************************

"Now, let me get this straight," said A.D. Skinner, irritated. "You've got surveillance photos you would like to SELL me?"

"Yes, and we really think you'd like to have them," said the man smoothly.

"What are they of?"

"We can't tell you that. After the deal is concluded, then we can tell you what they're of, and where they were taken."

"What kind of deal?" asked Skinner, trying to flex a pencil, which broke with a soft "snap!" He picked up another one.

The man told him. "That's preposterous," said Skinner. "Come back when you can name a more reasonable figure."

"These pictures concern international security," the man offered.

"Yeah, so what doesn't?" asked Skinner.

The man leaned forward over his desk. He was impeccably dressed, with very white teeth, and his breath smelled like mint. "Does the name C. G. B. Spender mean anything to you?" he asked.

Skinner started, and the pencil flew out of his hand. Recovering himself, he said easily, "the man is all over the globe. So?"

"So you'll want to see these pictures. They also involve an agent of yours."

"Which agent?" asked Skinner with interest. Always good to know who's double-crossing one, he thought.

"Agent Fox Mulder," the man said. "Ready to deal, yet?"

Skinner picked up the phone, punched a number. "Kim, get Andrew Stelling, in Special Budgets, on the line for me? Can you wait a moment?" he asked the man with the manila envelope.

Fifteen minutes later he had them spread out on his desk, three 8" by 10"s, color, digitized and of pretty good quality. They were all taken aboard TWA Flight 103, from Karachi, Pakistan to San Francisco International Airport. The first showed three men abreast, Mulder, Krycek and Spender. Mulder held a champagne flute and Krycek had one arm around each of the other two men. The second showed Krycek kissing Spender, and the third, Krycek kissing Mulder. Studying them, Skinner snapped several pencils in a row. Everything was crystal-clear to him now. Mulder being hurt? Mulder being tortured? He hadn't thought so, but Scully'd sounded so convinced.

He picked up the phone, punched in an outside line.

"Scully," said the cheery voice at the other end of the line.

"Agent Scully, A.D. Skinner here. Look, I think you'll want to rethink the Mulder thing. I've come into the possession of some very damning evidence."

"Damning to--to whom?" she faltered.

"To our ex-Agent Mulder," he said grimly. "I'll fax you the photos, taken aboard flight 103 from Pakistan to San Francisco."

"Oh," she said. "I'll turn on the fax machine."

Moments later she was in receipt of the photos. She looked from one to the other, to the third, then back again. "DAVE!" she called, and began to cry in little hiccups.

"What's the matter, darling?" Wordlessly she handed him the faxes.

"Good Christ!" he said. "I don't know what to say! This is terrible, far worse than I could ever have imagined! Dana, please don't cry, he's not worth it, he's a traitor of the worst kind, Dana!"

"H-he s-said h-he w-w-was b-beaten, he s-said h-he was tor-tortured!" she sobbed. "H-he even cried! A-and it was a-ll a l-lie, D-Dave, a lie! M-my Mulder! My b-best friend!"

"Yes, yes," said White, comfortingly, rocking her. "Try not to get too upset, Dana. People do things like this all the time."

"N-not M-Mulder!" she gasped. "H-he sold out, D-Dave. He s-sold out o-over that l-little floozy, Kr-Kr-Kr--"

"Yes, over Krycek," he said. "Over that little floozy, Krycek. That was how he got him, Dana. Nothing else would work! Now, we have to assume the worst," he said.

"Wh-what worst?"

"That Mulder's involved in his father's nefarious business dealings. That the two are 'thick as thieves'. That he's guilty of what amounts to high treason. That he took whatever went on here back to his dad. That we no longer have any secrets from the Smoking Man. Stuff like that."

"I'm calling Skinner back."

She punched in the speed dial. "A.D.? Scully. I got the faxes, and it looks really, really bad, and yes, we are rethinking the 'Mulder thing'."

"Oh, I'd have him arrested on treason charges in a hot second if he weren't property of his father at this point, and therefore, inviolable. I guess we'll just have to let him go, Agent Scully. He's a lost cause."

"But we were best friends," mourned Scully.

"He may try to approach you again, as a friend. If he does, let me know immediately."

Skinner hung up and left his office to have a chat with his secretary, Kim. Unbeknownst to him, a tall black man entered through the other door, scooped up the photos and slipped them into his briefcase, leaving by the same door.

When Skinner returned to his desk, at once he noticed the photographs missing. "Oh, God," he said, "I don't need this!" He ran out into the hall, saw Kersh just disappearing into an elevator. "Wait! Wait!" he called, running toward the elevator, but the doors had already closed.

"Oh, shit!" he said to no one in particular, ran back to his office and left a terse voicemail for Kersh. He could just guess who the next recipient of those photos would be.

************************************************************************

"These are not bad," said the CSM, downloading the pictures in his email. "The problem was that they quickly fell into the wrong hands."

"God," said Mulder, "Skinner got them."

"Yes, Skinner had them. Briefly, but long enough to ascertain you're not shooting him with friendly fire, Fox," he said.

"Then I really can't go back, can I?" asked Mulder softly.

"Well, Fox. There was never a question of that at any time, was there?"

"Let me see," said Krycek, wandering into the den. "Oh, shit! Great pictures of you, great pictures of you, lousy pictures of me!"

"These were undoubtedly taken by the woman 'tourist' who stumbled into First Class," said the CSM musingly. "They were sent at once to a foreign agency who sent out an operative to the Bureau. A.D. Skinner, to be exact. We let our guard down. We can never let that happen again."

Mulder shook his head, thinking of Scully and looking a little heartsick. 

"You're thinking about your friends at the Bureau," said the Smoking Man, lighting a cigarette. "Try not to let it bother you. We are your friends now. Alex, go take him somewhere and play, get his mind off this."

Krycek touched Mulder's shoulder and he stood up. "In your room," said Krycek. "Be there, darling, or be"--he insinuated his tongue into Mulder's mouth-- "square."

"Is it my day?" Mulder asked him, confused, on the way down the hall. 

"You got extra time, for good behavior," Krycek said. Once in the room, he closed the door and ripped Mulder's shirt off him, buttons flying, licked down his chest and up, bit his nipples and pulled on the rings with his teeth, kissed his throat, up to his chin, his oh-so-delectable full lower lip, and in his mouth, tongues meeting, and licked down around his waistband. Mulder needed no encouragement, skinned out of his slacks and Krycek knelt and took him in his mouth, licking and sucking till Mulder screamed and shot hot fluid down his throat.

"Darling," said Mulder, on the bed.

"Mm?"

"Tell me something."

"Mm?"

"Did you do the handcuff thing with...?"

Krycek grinned. "Oh, he loves the handcuff thing!"

"Oh. Darling?"

"Mm?"

"Did you do the piercing thing?"

"Of course I did! He wants everything you get, Mulder."

"Oh. Did he like it?"

"He loved it!"

"Oh. Alex?"

"Mm?"

"Let's slide this pillow under your hips. I'm gonna fuck you, Alex. I'm gonna make you scream."

"Put it right in me, Mulder. No lube."

"But I'm so big."

"That's part of the charm, Mulder. I really want to feel you. Come on!"

Mulder mounted him and Krycek groaned. "Does it hurt?"

"A little, but it's a really good hurt. Touch me, Mulder!"

Mulder grasped Krycek's cock and began stroking. "How do you want me to fuck you?" he asked.

"Hard. I want you to fuck me hard!" gasped Krycek.

"OK," said Mulder, and thrust hard into his lover.

"That's so...fuckin'...good!" said Krycek, and screamed loudly, spurting in a wide arc. Mulder came soon afterward, shooting deep into Krycek's heat.

He lay for a long moment on Krycek, hugging him closely, head nestled on his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat. "Alex," he said at last.

"Mm?"

"My life is so much better now than it was just a week ago."

"So is mine," said Krycek. "And, though he may not realize it yet, so is his."

"Mm? How so?"

"He's got you, his son and heir, working closely with him. He no longer has to shoulder all his burdens alone. And he draws hope, strength and youthful vitality from you."

"Doesn't he mind, an awful lot, sharing you with me?"

"I think he went through a rough adjustment period. He loves me, just as you do. But he's already adjusting, and pretty damned well, if you ask me. As you are, Mulder."

"Have I done the right thing, in choosing this path?" Mulder asked.

"It is like you, to be plagued with self-doubts, but yes, you have done the right thing. I think it is your karma, Mulder."

"Which of us do you like better?" Mulder asked.

Krycek laughed. "No fair asking! I LOVE you both! You know that!"

"Oh, c'mon!" said Mulder.

"OK, Mulder, you have the advantage of being young and gorgeous...he has the advantage of being rich and powerful...these things are all aphrodisiacs, you know. And I like both of you as people, very much. What more can I say?"

"How can you like someone who hits you?"

Krycek sighed. "Well, he hasn't done it lately, and probably won't for as long as you're here. You can still love someone who hurts you, Mulder."

Mulder thought of Scully, sadly. "Scully," he said. "She knows I've hurt her. Yet she still loves me, as far as I know."

"She will always love you, Mulder. You were her first true love."

************************************************************************

"Scully."

"Scully, this is Mulder."

"Oh it IS, is it?"

"Yes, it is. How are you?"

"Coming apart at the seams over those photos, Mulder. How could you! How could you lie to me like that? Did you use blue eyeshadow or something for those fake bruises, Mulder?"

He glanced at his father, who shook his head vigorously.

"No, those were real bruises; he did hit me, Scully."

The Smoking Man smiled, thumbs-up.

"You've got me on speaker again. Is he standing there, coaching this call?"

The man folded his hands under his head in the "sleep" pose.

"No, he's not. He's fast asleep, Scully."

"Yeah, I'll just bet."

"He is, Scully. He forced me to go with him on that trip, you know."

The CSM nodded, smiled slightly.

"He forced you to smile, kiss Krycek and drink champagne?"

"It's an act, Scully. Please, you have to believe me! I'm telling you the truth!"

The Smoking Man drew lines from his eyes.

Mulder produced some tears. "Oh, Scully, I'm so miserable! You've just got to believe me!"

"Yeah huh. I didn't see any bruises in those pictures."

"Oh, Scully, surveillance photos have notoriously poor resolution."

This drew a nod from the CSM.

"Well," she said doubtfully, "I really want to believe you, Mulder. Come by and let me look at you. If those 'bruises' don't rub off, I'll think about believing you."

The Smoking Man held his stomach and looked sick.

"Scully, I can't come today; I'm feeling kind of sick at my stomach. Something I ate. Maybe in a few days?"

"By that time the bruises, if there are any, would have faded. So I wouldn't be able to verify your veracity based on that. Give me something concrete, Mulder."

He looked at his father, who wrote hurriedly on a slip of paper: "Our next trip is to Malaysia."

"I'll tell you where our next trip is to, Scully."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Malaysia," he said.

"Thank you, Mulder! I'll report to Skinner that you're on the level after all. When can you come by?"

The Smoking Man shook his head.

"I don't know yet. It's whenever I can get away."

The CSM smiled, nodded.

"All right, Mulder. We still love you, you know."

Thumbs-up from his father.

"Whew," said Mulder, after hanging up, "these are really harrowing, you know?"

"You're doing a great job, Fox. Such a great job that I can hardly imagine how I did without you all those years!"

Krycek came up behind Mulder and hugged him. "Darling," he said. "You were great!"

"This is my son, in whom I am well pleased," said the Smoking Man, lighting a cigarette.

************************************************************************

"I don't know whether to believe him or not," confessed Scully to White. "He always sounds so convincing. He even cried. A lot."

"I dunno," White said doubtfully. "I just don't know."

There was a knock at the door and Johansen came in. "Is it lunch yet?" he asked hopefully.

"I haven't had time to fix anything," said Scully. "We've had sort of an emergency," she said, indicating the pictures.

"Good God," said Johansen. "They're a cozy bunch, aren't they? Where were these taken?"

"On a flight from Karachi, Pakistan. I guess they did a test there or something. We don't know the details, just that these three look exceptionally chummy and friendly. Obviously."

"But Mulder was just over here with bruises."

"Which don't show in the photos," Scully pointed out. "However, they were on the other side of his face, as I recall. I just got off the phone with Mulder and he swore up and down that he was on the level, that he was forced to go, etc. I don't know whether to believe him."

"I think he is a little snake, like that Krycek," said Johansen, irritated that Krycek was kissing Mulder, his crush, in one of the photographs.

There was another knock on the front door and the Lone Gunmen streamed in, followed by Amanda Jones. The faxed pictures were passed around and studied by all.

"I refuse to believe that Mulder voluntarily put himself in this position," said Byers staunchly.

"I agree with Byers," said Frohike. "Mulder is putting on a good act to impress those people, but it's not genuine. He's probably scared to death."

"Yeah," said Langly, popping a grape sucker out of his mouth. "Mulder is honest as the day is long."

"I don't know what to think," said Jones. "It is very hard to believe he's actually joined forces with the guy, his sworn enemy for eight long years. On the other hand, there are these photos. He seems to be enjoying the hell out of himself."

"As I said, it's an act," said Frohike.

"He didn't know he was being photographed," Jones pointed out.

"Well, it's an act anyway, designed to impress the Smoking Man," said Byers. "I am almost entirely sure of this."

"I'll get lunch started," said Scully. "Cheese-steak sandwiches OK with everyone?" Everyone enthusiastically assented.

While they ate, they pondered the pictures and Scully's conversations with Skinner. "You know, Skinner is extremely suspicious, and that's putting it mildly," said Scully. "He's ready to have Mulder tried for high treason. Let's put it to a vote: we'll have Mulder over, examine him and interrogate him. I mean, we'll look at him and question him. Sound good? Raise your right hand...OK, it's unanimous. Can he bring Krycek?...OK, barely a majority. He can bring Krycek." To herself, she thought: Krycek is his spy, reporting back to the Smoking Man what he does and says. To know the mind of the Smoking Man, she thought, I'd give all kinds of money and precious jewels. Mulder knows his mind. Krycek knows his mind. How to get it out of them? Was Mulder on the level? Was he really being held, forced to do things against his will? The logical reasoning part of her brain told her yes, but the intuitive part told her a resounding NO. No. He'd joined forces with that evil man, become one with him.

************************************************************************

"Crab quiche for lunch, garden salad, chardonnay," announced Bill Runningwater. Bob came in from outdoors, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. Krycek sat by Mulder, touching and kissing him. "Here, darling," he said, lifting a forkful of quiche to Mulder's mouth. After a glassful or two of the wine, Mulder began to feel euphoric, swirled round by heady happenings, and he rose, raising his glass. "I propose a toast," he said, "to this household. Long may it prosper in peace and happiness!" The others raised their glasses and clinked them round.

He didn't remember too much of what happened later, save that Krycek helped him up and into his bed, where his lover did things with him that brought him transcendent pleasure, that seemed to go on for an eternity, an eternity of loving this man, of lying in his arms, of making love to him and being made love to, of soft lips and mouth on his cock, on his ass, and doing the same to him, and always, always loving him with a fierce love that burned like a gas jet, an undying flame over the shrine of sex.

"My God," he said later, while they lay on the bed in each others' arms. "I just can't believe my good fortune, Alex. I've got you; I found my roots; I will stay forever."

"Good," said Krycek. "I want you to stay forever. Will you still love me when I get old?"

"Alex, I'll love you more. I'll love you more."

************************************************************************

"Mulder."

"Hey, Scully."

"Will you come over day after tomorrow?"

The Smoking Man shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't, that's our Malaysia trip. Afterward."

"OK. When will you be back?"

The CSM held up four fingers.

"In four days, Scully."

"OK. You realize, we will check to see whether airline tickets were purchased to Malaysia."

The CSM nodded nonchalantly.

"Go ahead, Scully, they're in his name."

"OK. We'll see you then, Mulder."

"All right."

"You really bought tickets to Malaysia?" Mulder asked his father.

"I certainly did, but that's not where we're going, of course."

"Where are we going?"

"To Peru."

************************************************************************

"The project is going rather well," the Smoking Man said, lighting a cigarette.

The First Elder and the Well-Manicured Man nodded vigorously. "Deaths all over the place," said the WMM.

"Yes. And there will be more. We have one more test site: Lima, Peru, with a population of 6.8 million; we shipped 500 units to them. After this test, we will start in on the governments of superpowers. We will give the computers as gifts, touted as the latest in Silicon Valley technology, meanwhile selling them to the populace for a nominal charge. Who is coming with me to Peru?"

The WMM and First Elder raised their hands briefly.

"Very well," said the CSM. "Those who don't come with us run the risk of missing something important. We have to get to the airport at 3 AM; customs takes three hours. I would like you all to know that my son, Fox Mulder, will be sitting in at this meeting tomorrow. Do not be concerned; I have him under complete control."

There was some rustling and muttering in the room.

"If you have any objections to Mulder's sitting in on the meeting, tell me now," said the CSM.

The Second Elder spoke up. "He'll learn all our secrets."

"He already knows many of them," said the Smoking Man. "After much deliberation, I made the decision to trust him with them; so far he has proven to be entirely trustworthy, not to mention invaluable in some areas."

************************************************************************

"Fuck me again, Mulder." It was a command, issuing from the soft bowed lips of Alex Krycek.

"'K," said Mulder. "How do you want it?"

"Up the ass," said Krycek.

"You know what I mean."

"Face-up, then." Krycek lay on his back and Mulder knelt between his legs, lubing his hand and cock. He inserted one slippery finger into Krycek, who moaned. He slid another finger, then a third, and Krycek groaned. Finally he mounted his lover, shoving his huge cock past the tight ring of muscle and into Krycek's heat. "Oh, God," said Krycek. "Mulder, I love you. Fuck me, fuck me!"

Mulder took Krycek's cock in hand and began to stroke it rhythmically, timed to his thrusts. Krycek arched his back, leaned his head back and screamed at the ceiling, coming in a fountain which drenched Mulder and the bedding. Mulder, intoxicated by the sight of Krycek's orgasm, had one of his own, shooting hot fluid deep into Krycek's heat.

"I have the best orgasms I've ever had, with you, Mulder. You're the best."

"I feel exactly the same way about you, Alex."

They lay, fingers touching, on the bed. "Well, I'll go stuff this into the washing machine, I guess," said Krycek. "It sure needs it."

"Hey, I wanna fuck again," said Mulder.

"You're insatiable! Top or bottom?"

"Bottom, please." He lay on his back and watched Krycek shove a dildo up himself. "Ah," he said. "Fucking and being fucked at the same time. Are you ready for me, Mulder?" he asked, slicking his cock with K-Y. " 'Cause here I come!" He slid his cock up Mulder, to its fullest extent. Mulder gasped. "Oh, Alex, feels so good, fuck me!" Krycek fucked him while stroking Mulder's enormous cock. Mulder came first, screaming, then Krycek added a scream of his own.

"Hey, you know what we could do? We could get Bob in here for a threesome."

"Hell no! It's bad enough having to share you with the Old Man," Mulder said.

Krycek grinned at him. "Knew that would get you," he said. "Mulder, stand up." He handcuffed Mulder's hands behind his back. "Now, suck me," he said.

Mulder leaned forward to suck Krycek, trembling with the effort to hold the position, licking and sucking him until he came, shooting hot fluid down Mulder's throat, and then, to Mulder's surprise, he came too.

"God," said Krycek, "that was awesome! What a turn-on!"

"For me, too," said Mulder. "I came all over myself."

"Let's hit the shower now," said Krycek. "Fuck me in the shower, Mulder."

Mulder pushed Krycek against the shower wall, and, standing in the hot sluicing water, shoved his huge, water-slicked cock up Krycek. Krycek gasped. "Oh my God," he said, "it's so good, Mulder!" Mulder fucked him until they came, simultaneously, yelling and screaming.

After they'd finished showering they wandered out into the common rooms. The Smoking Man was there, a lit cigarette in his hand and two more burning in the crystal ashtray. He glanced up at them. "We're leaving tomorrow, after all. Pack clothes for a moderate climate, a suit plus any casual clothes you want to bring."

"Who gets Alex on this trip?" Mulder asked.

"I do, but I'll try to give you a night with him. You still have extra time coming."

Extra time coming. Mulder decided that was a very good way to put it.

"We have to leave here at 3 AM. As usual, customs are just a formality for us, but we still have to wait in line at some point. Why don't you boys go to bed and get some sleep?"

Mulder threw clothes in his bag, but Krycek packed his very neatly. "Bed," said Mulder, holding out his arms. Krycek melted into the kiss, pulling him down on the bed. Gently and slowly, they caressed each other, helping each other out of their clothing, till it all lay in a little pile at the foot of the bed. "Turn over," said Krycek. "I'm gonna eat you. I'm gonna make you come just from that." Mulder rolled over and Krycek rimmed him till, indeed, he came, groaning into the pillow. 

"My turn," said Krycek, and lay face-down on the bed. Mulder licked and tongued him till he came, screaming.

************************************************************************

"Think Mulder's telling the truth?" worried Scully.

"I think he's conveniently got that phone stuck on speaker," said White, stirring milk into chocolate pudding mix. "What do you think, Johansen?"

"Think he's divine in bed," said Johansen, sampling the chocolate mixture, "and a lying little snake."

"Mulder? I've never known Mulder to lie to us before about anything," said Scully.

Johansen snorted. "Mark my words, he's sold us all down the river for a nice piece of ass."

"I hate to think that of Mulder," said Scully slowly.

"Tell you what," said Johansen. "Have them tailed in Malaysia. See what they do."

"That's an expensive proposition," said White, "but we'll call Skinner. And get the passenger manifest, Scully. Mulder said the tickets were in his name."

"Are they flying into Kuala Lumpur?" Scully asked.

White shrugged. "This pudding is getting lumpy," he observed. "They probably are. We can easily find out."

Scully made a few calls and discovered that, indeed, five tickets to Kuala Lumpur had been purchased by one C. G. B. Spender for the day after tomorrow. "Well, he's telling the truth about that," she said. "We should have them tailed anyway, to see what they're up to."

"I'll call Skinner now," said Scully... "Hi, A.D., this is Agent Scully. We need a tail put on the Spender entourage, flying to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia tomorrow at 6 AM. Call me back if any questions."

************************************************************************

At one AM, Bill Runningwater rousted them out of bed. "Wake up, sleepyheads!" he called. "You made a late night of it, after all, didn't you, Alexei?" he said severely. The Boss is already up, waiting for you."

"Shit," said Mulder, feeling around for jeans and a polo shirt. "Peru, huh? Should I bring my bathing suit?"

"If you like," said Krycek, dressing. "You can't swim in the ocean at Lima, you know. They dump raw sewage into it."

"Thanks for telling me," said Mulder. "I'll swim at the hotel."

The CSM was seated at the table, smoking. "You two have some breakfast," he said. "Even if it's just corn flakes." Krycek emptied some Cheerios into a bowl. "I'm not hungry," said Mulder.

"Alex, come sit by me," said the Smoking Man. Krycek sat near him, twining an arm through his. Mulder eyed them blearily. Guess it's his day today, he thought.

At the airport, they had only one line to stand in, and they breezed through Customs, as usual. They changed the seating arrangement from last time, though, with Krycek sitting between the Smoking Man and the Well-Manicured Man, and Mulder seated on the aisle next to the First Elder. The change was necessary, the CSM explained to Mulder, in case more pictures were taken; although they all kept an eagle eye out for anyone stumbling in from Coach. Krycek hung all over Mulder's father, touching and kissing him. Mulder's sensitivity to this stuff had markedly lessened; yet still, he wished it were he that Alex was paying so much attention to. He read the in-flight magazine, a dumb detective novel he'd purchased at the airport, the Wall Street Journal chunk by chunk after the Smoking Man finished with it; and drank Mimosa after Mimosa; still he was bored. Once or twice he observed Krycek getting up to go to the restroom, with the CSM following close behind. He shook his head, thinking, poor Alex is an innocent addict.

He was glad when the plane touched down, they got their bags, went through Customs again and were taken to their hotel. At least he wasn't jet-lagged this time, and when the CSM told him they'd be meeting with their ThruWay host, Pedro Martinez, he quickly dressed in an Armani suit. "You look sharp," he told his reflection.

They met with Senor Martinez, were told there were already 36 deaths, that he knew of, toured his facilities briefly and then Alex developed a migraine and had to return to the hotel. "Go with him, Fox, make sure he's OK," said his father, lighting a cigarette. "But remember--it's my day today."

Mulder made Krycek as comfortable as he knew how, dimming the lights, obtaining both a heating pad and an ice pack from the hotel and alternating them, running across the street to a pharmacy for Imitrex. "Thank you, sweetheart," said Krycek gratefully, taking the Imitrex. "C'mere. C'mere, I won't bite, unless you want me to," and Mulder leaned forward in a kiss.

"Mm," said Krycek. "Now kiss me there."

"It's not my day. He'll be furious," said Mulder.

"He won't ever know. Come on, I have to have an orgasm to get rid of this headache. Fuck me, Mulder! Fuck me now!"

"All right, let's get some of your clothes off, Alex. That's good," he said, as Krycek pulled his jeans off. "Want a quick and dirty, Alex? I'm afraid to linger, for fear of being caught."

"Quick and dirty, then," said Krycek. Mulder quickly mounted him, stroking Krycek's cock and fucking him hard. Krycek came quickly, gasping and shuddering and spurting all over Mulder's hand and his stomach.

"My headache's gone!" he beamed. He looked around him. "Did any of that get on the bedding?"

"It did," said Mulder. "I'll call Housekeeping."

"No, change it with your coverlet and then call Housekeeping."

"Good idea," said Mulder. They rose from the bed and dressed, Mulder pulling on his slacks and pulling off the bedspread. Krycek came up to him from behind and kissed him. "You smell like sex," Mulder observed. "Better take a shower."

"I'll take a bath, so I don't get my hair wet. That way, I can say I took a bath for my headache."

"Sure wish I could join you," said Mulder wistfully, "but I can't risk it. They'll probably be back soon."

Krycek was luxuriating in his soak, 100,000 bubbles piled up high everywhere in the Jacuzzi and spilling onto the tile floor, when the door opened and the CSM came through it. "Alex, my love," he said, half-lifted Krycek from the tub and kissed him and kissed him. He kissed him lower, and lower still. "I remembered what you like to do for a headache," he said.

************************************************************************

"You got a fax," said White to Scully, who was eating a peanut-butter-and-sweet pickle sandwich.

"Mm," she said, swallowing. "Passenger manifest, OK, that checks out. Got a Spender, a Krycek and a Mulder. What are these? Pictures? They're of the wrong people," she said dismissively.

"They're of the passengers Spender, Krycek and Mulder," said White carefully.

"Oh...oh, shit! Well, surely there must be some mistake!"

White shook his head.

"Get Johansen, Jones and the Gunmen in here right away," she said tightly. "I'll kill him. I'll kill Mulder! That's the last time he lies to me and gets away with it!"

"Or does anything, and gets away with it," White said thoughtfully, and ran outside to round up the team.

"I told you he was a lying little snake, didn't I?" asked Johansen. "Hey, this pudding is pretty good! Do you have whipped cream? Thanks," he said, opening the refrigerator.

"I'll kill him," Scully said between clenched teeth. "Bet he's on another plane, or even in another country by now, after feeding me that red herring!"

"Try his cell phone."

"They probably don't have service to wherever he is, but I will try," said Scully. She got his voice mail. "Mulder, this is Scully. Something's come up that's terribly important. I need you to come right over after you've gotten back"...Wonder where he really is? she thought.

************************************************************************

Mulder didn't sleep very well that night, even with the wax earplugs he'd purchased at the pharmacy. He didn't know how two men could sound like the Bachelor Party from Hell, but they could and they did, into the wee small hours of the morning. If there was any justice in the world, Mulder thought bitterly, the old man, at his age and the amount he smoked, should be dead of a heart attack.

But he wasn't; indeed, he was up and dressed and knocking on the connecting door while Mulder was still scrunched up under the covers, praying for an easy death.

"Meeting at 9 AM with Pedro Martinez. Wear your best suit."

Mulder dressed in another Armani and went downstairs to meet his party. This time they met in the back room of a club downtown. "I have to keep changing meeting places," Senor Martinez said apologetically.

"That's all right," said the Smoking Man. Walking into the place, Krycek glanced around and nudged Mulder. "It's a gay bar, Mulder!" he hissed.

"We're offering these items to your President and his family and associates," the CSM said, lighting a cigarette. "Just some bottled water, please," he said to the waiter, "and get the same for these two men," he said, indicating Krycek and Mulder. The waiter cast an admiring glance in their direction and nodded. There was no question those two were lovers, he thought; he sensed the old man came into it, too, somehow, but did not know how.

"I realize that you won't be able to keep those deaths out of the media; nevertheless, I want to be the first to know."

Senor Martinez nodded. "I understand you perfectly, Sir."

"I need this merchandise to be placed in the best possible light, as something on the cutting edge of Silicon Valley technology, you understand that, don't you? I don't want anyone to refuse them."

Martinez nodded. "I won't disappoint you, Sir," he said.

The drinks arrived; the CSM paid for them with a $100 bill. "Keep the change," he said casually to the waiter. The waiter thought, this is someone for whom money has no meaning.

************************************************************************

Mulder was surprised to find that his cell phone worked down here. The indicator said he had a message. He played his voice mail and there was Scully, sounding worried and what? Angry? No, that couldn't be, unless she'd somehow found out about the phony Malaysian trip. Which she, more than likely, had not. He listened to his next message, from Skinner, wanting him to call him back immediately. Well, what was this?

"What's up, Scully?" he asked. He was using his cell phone, not the hotel phone, which could be traced.

"Well, Mulder, it's very important that you come by when you get back. How is Malaysia?"

"Malaysia's beautiful," he said blandly, glancing out the window at the streets below.

"Is it very hot there?"

"Oh, yes, very warm," he lied.

"Can you bring me a souvenir or something, Mulder?"

"Well, sure, Scully, I'll try to remember. So you want me to come over after I get back?"

"Please, yes."

"Could you give me any idea of what's so important?"

"I can't talk about it over the phone, Mulder. You'll just have to be here."

"OK," he said, and a feeling of foreboding crept over him. "OK if I bring Alex? He hardly ever gets out."

"I'd rather you didn't. Just you, Mulder."

"Got that?" she asked White.

"Yes. I'll play the tape back to be sure."

Mulder knocked on the connecting door. It was answered by the Smoking Man. "Alex is sleeping," he said. "He's very tired." No kidding, after last night, thought Mulder; you old goat.

"I've got something to run by you," he said. "Come in."

The CSM seated himself in a chair, lit a cigarette. "What is it, Son?"

"Scully suspects," he said. "She called my cell phone, saying there was something terribly important that she had to meet with me about, but that I couldn't talk over the phone about it, and she also said I can't bring Krycek."

The CSM stroked his chin. "Sounds like trouble," he said at last. "I wouldn't go over there, if I were you. Or, you can go but be on your guard."

"Well, what would they do?"

"They might want to interrogate you. I don't know. If you run into trouble, you call me."

Mulder nodded. "OK. Hey," he asked, "may I have Alex tonight?"

"I was going to let you have him when we get back. We've made love all evening. If that bothers you, you can wait; otherwise, you may have him when he wakes up."

"I'll have him when he wakes up," said Mulder eagerly.

Within a few minutes, a sleepy Alex Krycek knocked at the door and was admitted by Mulder. "God, Alex, you look sexy, with that hair falling in your eyes," he said. "I'll bet he likes it too." 

"I'll bet you're right," said Krycek. "How do you wanna fuck, Mulder?"

"Hard. Fast. Long," said Mulder.

************************************************************************

On the trip back, Krycek and Mulder were seated next to each other, with the First Elder sitting to Mulder's right and the CSM sharing a bank of seats with the WMM. Krycek kissed him so much Mulder's mouth began to feel a little numb. When no one was looking, Krycek slid a hand inside Mulder's jeans and jerked him off, and Mulder did the same to Krycek.

"I saw that," said the CSM, not looking up from his book. "Like a sixth-grade teacher, I have eyes in the back of my head. Just don't let the stewardess see you."

The flight was uneventful, no one was in First Class but their party of five, and no one wandered in from Coach.

Upon his arrival, Mulder called Scully. "Scully? This is Mulder. I'm back."

"Well, you're ahead of time," she commented.

"Yeah, well, business was concluded early," he said. "Want me to come over?"

"Sure," she said. "I've just baked some chocolate cookies. You do like them, don't you?"

"So how was Malaysia, Mulder?" she asked him, when he was seated at the table with milk and cookies.

"Fine," he said, taking a bite of cookie.

"Did you bring me a souvenir?"

"Oh, I totally forgot! I'm so sorry!"

"No problem," she said, nodding to White, who placed five faxed photos on the table in front of him.

"Oh, nice pictures, whoever they are," he said blandly, shuffling through the faxes.

"These pictures are of the passengers Spender, Krycek and Mulder, taken in Kuala Lumpur," she said quietly.

"Well, they can't be, obviously; those people aren't us," he said. "Someone made a mistake."

"Someone, Mulder, made a really BIG mistake," she said dangerously.

Mulder felt something hard and cylindrical poking in his back. "Hey!" he said in alarm. "Put that down! Someone could get hurt!"

"No one needs to," said White. "Get up slowly, Mulder, put your hands behind your back."

Numb, Mulder did as he was told, and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

"Fox William Mulder, I'm arresting you on suspicion of treason. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one, one will be provided for you." Scully patted Mulder down, fished for his weapons, found two Sig Sauers, chucked them in a drawer.

White marched Mulder to the SUV, put him in back with Scully.

"This is a big mistake, Scully," he said. "I'm not a traitor."

"Then what do you call it, what you are?" she asked. "A patriot?"

It was a long drive to Elmwood Correctional Facility. Mulder was searched, booked and placed in a holding cell. "May I please use the phone to call my attorney?" he asked the corrections officer.

"Sure," the C.O. said, and let him.

"Hey, Dad," he said. "Scully and White had me arrested for treason. They had a tail on the dummy passengers to Malaysia, took some pictures."

"Really? They're brighter than I thought. I'll be right there to get you out, Son. There might be a slight delay with the paperwork."

Scully and White walked onto the cellblock. "Mulder," said Scully, "we want to ask you some questions." Mulder was herded into the windowless interrogation room. "Want some coffee, Mulder? How about a cigarette?" she asked evilly.

"This conversation is being taped," White announced, "as of now."

"We know you're working for him. We want to know for how long. We want to know the name of the supplier of the chips. We want to know the production schedules. We want to know the test schedules. Start talking, Mulder," said Scully.

Mulder shrugged. "I merely live at that house."

"Mulder, you need to cooperate with us," said White. "If you do, we can make it easy for you, plead you to a much lesser charge, get you time served, that kind of thing."

Mulder tipped his chair back. "You're gonna fall," Scully remarked, a fraction of a second before Mulder fell backward, hitting his head on the hard concrete floor. "Ow," he said to the ceiling. They helped him back up.

"Mulder, please start talking," said Scully. "We know you are privy to his secrets. Let us know what they are. Mulder, the fate of the world hangs in the balance."

Someone knocked on the door. They looked up; it was a guard. He opened the door. "This prisoner is out," he said.

"What do you mean, 'out'?" asked White.

"Just what I said. Charges are dropped, he hits the street." They walked through the door and beheld the CSM, lighting a cigarette and shaking out the match.

"YOU!" said Scully, in a voice filled with hate. "You're interfering with justice! You're endangering world peace! And you've bought and sold my best friend!"

The Smoking Man regarded her evenly. "No need to get upset, Ms. Scully. I'm merely claiming what's mine," he said. "Son," he added, grasping Mulder's arm gently, "come with me," and he steered him down the hall.

"Do you believe that?" asked Scully. "Look at them!"

"Yes," said White. "Remember, in Santa Cruz, how fast he got Krycek out of jail, and he was in London when he did it?"

"How could I forget? Oh, now what'll we do? We'll never be able to think of a ruse to get Mulder back to us."

"We may just have to write him off," said White.

"He's my best friend," said Scully, tears springing to her eyes.

"Was," intoned White. "Was."

************************************************************************

It hit the front pages, and was all over CNN: The President of Peru, several family members and numerous associates were dead of a mysterious brain ailment.

"Oh, God," said Scully, watching the news. "Do you suppose they actually went to Peru? Let's get the passenger manifests of every airline flying there in the past few days."

"You don't think he'd be using his real name, do you?"

"No, but Krycek or Mulder might've. They might not have fake ID, Dave."

"OK, we'll get the manifests," he said doubtfully. "Might as well get guest lists from all the major hotels," he said.

"And the minor ones, too," she agreed. "Oh, shit, oh shit. He's one step ahead of us the whole chase, Dave. I think Mulder is giving him an edge, too. You know, I had a dream last night."

"Yes?"

"It was of Rose of Sharon. She came to me and said that as black as things looked, all things were working together for an ultimate good."

"Oh, Christ," said White, rolling his eyes. "How could anything the Smoking Man does be good?"

"She didn't go into detail, except to say that Mulder would have an important part in what was to come."

"Hell, he already has, the traitor."

************************************************************************

Mulder awoke cradled in Alex Krycek's arms. "Darling," Krycek said softly. "Oh, my love," and he kissed Mulder, nipped his full lower lip, kissed his face, his neck.

"If you wanna give me a blow job," Mulder said sleepily, "You certainly can."

"Your wish is my command," said Krycek, and dove beneath the covers for Mulder's cock, already standing at attention.

"Mm," said Mulder. "Suck it, Alex."

Krycek's soft mouth and lips closed around Mulder's cock, his tongue licking and lapping. "Want it fast and hard?" he asked, "or slow and soft?"

"Fast and hard," said Mulder.

"You got it," and he concentrated his full efforts on sucking Mulder's huge cock. With no effort at all, Mulder groaned and came copiously in Krycek's mouth.

"Shower now?" asked Mulder. 

"Yes. I'll fuck you, Mulder. You'll like that."

"I'll like it very much."

In the shower, Krycek squashed Mulder against the wall with one hand and slid his water-slicked cock up his ass with the other. "Oh, God," said Mulder, "I love it! Fuck me hard, Alex!" Leaning against the shower wall, Krycek stroked and fucked Mulder till he came, yelling Krycek's name. Then Krycek came, and he screamed his orgasm, shooting deep inside Mulder's heat.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door, Krycek still in the throes of orgasm. It was Bill Runningwater. "You boys busy? Oh, I guess you are! Sorry! I just wanted to let you both know that the Old Man is taking you to a meeting this morning. Be ready in an hour, OK?"

"OK," said Mulder. "No problem."

"Guess it's another Armani," mused Mulder, standing in front of the closet. "What're you wearing, Alex?"

"This Pierre Cardin, blue shirt, godawful tie."

The Smoking Man was waiting for them. "We might as well leave early. That way the coffee catering service will be there on time for the rest of the arrivals."

"For those of you who have never met my son, this is Fox Mulder. Alex Krycek I believe most of you know. They'll both be sitting in on these meetings from here on out."

There were nods and murmurs, and Mulder smiled amiably. "Hi," he said equably, and sat down.

"You have no more ties to the opposition?" the Second Elder asked.

"None," said Mulder. "They arrested me on suspicion of treason; therefore, it's unlikely I'd harbor any more charitable feelings toward them."

"Did you tell them anything?" the First Elder asked.

"Nothing," Mulder said, smiling and shaking his head. "Nothing at all. I denied everything."

"Good show!" said the Well-Manicured Man. "You are following in your father's footsteps, young man!"

"I hope so," said Mulder sincerely. "I truly hope so."

The CSM smiled at him, lit a cigarette. "Now, to the business at hand. We have 430 deaths attributable to the microprocessors in Algeria, 321 in Pakistan, and 379 in Peru. We don't need to do any more tests. We can, however, move forward with the toppling of major world governments; we've essentially succeeded in Lima. The decimation of the populace will follow, as more units are manufactured and assembled. My esteemed colleague," he said, indicating the WMM, "took it upon himself to seek out alternate sources of the units, and has come up with half a dozen companies in the Bay Area. They upsized their technical and manufacturing staff dramatically and are going into production immediately. I predict that by this time next month, the world will be in chaos."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Mulder realized it had been his. "Don't be shocked, Fox," said his father amusedly. "It's all coming down soon, and you'll have played a role in it. All government is corrupt, anyway; it won't be a great loss to the world."

Mulder nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Then," the CSM went on, "the way will be open for the aliens to populate the world...in select areas, of course; not necessarily here."

I HOPE NOT, thought Mulder.

************************************************************************

"The passenger manifests indicate nothing," Scully said, scanning them. "Neither do the hotel guest lists. None of those names shows up."

"Just shows he was smart enough to get people fake IDs. We have no proof they were ever in Peru at all, none; but we can guess they were."

"God," said Scully, "where will they strike next?"

"Mulder knows, or shortly will," said White grimly. "I'd like just five minutes all alone with that guy," he said, pounding his right fist into his left palm.

"I know you would," said Scully.

The front door opened and Johansen and Jones came through it. "Hey, guys!" said Scully absently. "Hey yourself!" Johansen said. "So you busted the snake, but he slithered away?"

She looked at him. "He's a human being, Johansen."

"And you still love him, no matter what he does. Love the person, hate the act," said Johansen sardonically.

Scully slapped her pile of papers down on the table. "You can be respectful, or you can leave," she said, glaring at him.

"Whom am I disrespecting? asked Johansen scornfully. "An IDEA that doesn't even exist? Face it, Scully, in years to come, his name will be remembered right up there with Benedict Arnold's. That is, if there ARE years to come. I wouldn't bank on it."

"He's right, you know," said Jones. "Just give up on him, honey," she said to Scully. "He's not worth it...You know, I have an idea that might help, not with Mulder, but with the effort in general. I could tail him to a meeting."

"You could," said Scully glumly, "if you didn't mind being shot again."

Jones laughed. "I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf," she said.

************************************************************************

On the way home in the Mercedes, the CSM said, "You're going to need more money, Fox. I'll give you some, particularly since you've been doing such a fine job and learning the ropes so quickly. I'll require Alex today. You'll have to forgive me; I'm used to having him constantly. You don't mind, do you, Alex?"

Krycek, in the back seat, yawned. "Sorry, a bit sleepy. No, of course not, love," he said, leaned forward and bit the back of the CSM's neck. His steering went a little wide.

"Hey, no distracting the driver!" said Mulder, grinning.

From the way the two went at it as soon as the Old Man parked the car, Mulder figured they'd never make it to the bedroom, so he went to his room, played CDs and Instant Messaged people around the globe. One woman (he presumed) with the screen name Brown Sugar struck up a conversation with him. "Well, BrownFox," the writer said, "jumped over any lazy dogs lately?"

Amused, he wrote back, "and do you taste so good?"

He got back, "I taste fine, honey. My tongue is in good working order."

Well, at least this one was fairly witty. "What do you look like?"

"I'm an attractive female of the species. And you are 6'1", 175 pounds, light brown hair, and those green-hazel eyes, am I right?"

Mulder stared at the words on his screen. "Do you know who I am?" he typed back.

"If your name is Mulder, I do."

"How did you know? I don't have a profile."

"Took a guess, from your screen name."

"Well, who the hell are YOU?"

"Ah-ah, no fair asking."

Mulder signed off quickly. Damn her! Whoever she was, she'd unnerved him. He'd have to change his screen name.

He tipped back in his chair, sure he could hear wild-animal sounds coming from the living room. He popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. Maybe he could ignore the commotion long enough to get lunch. He walked out to the kitchen, and sure enough, there they were on the sectional, Alex getting fucked and obviously enjoying himself all to pieces, scratching and howling like a feral cat. "Bill," he said, "would you make me lunch? An omelette sandwich, or something?"

"Sure," said Runningwater. "Whatever you like, Mulder."

"Enjoying the show?" asked Mulder.

The Navajo sighed. "After eight years of it, you get to know all the acts."

Mulder laughed. "Don't you think this is a really weird arrangement we have, with Alex?"

He shook his head. "No, I think it's a really functional arrangement, a really sensible arrangement. I'm so glad it's working out."

"Is that just the party line, or do you really believe that?"

Runningwater looked at him. "I really believe it. As should you."

"Did I make the right decision, coming here, Bill?"

"What would you say? Are you not in Paradise?"

"Yes," Mulder said, "I'd have to agree with you. My life was by turns boring, and desperate, and hopeless. Now my days are filled with variety, sensation, the love of my life--"

"--and the intoxication of great power and wealth," finished the Indian.

Yelling and screaming from the sectional indicated the couple there had climaxed at or about the same time. Mulder glanced over to see them holding each other in a tight embrace. Runningwater followed his gaze. "Yes," he said, "they care very much for each other, despite all the water under the bridge, despite all their problems."

They showed up in the dining room a few moments later, more or less dressed, Krycek less his shirt, the CSM with his tie unknotted. Mulder looked at them blandly. "Did you two children play nicely in the sandbox?" he asked.

************************************************************************

Amanda Jones spoke into her hands-free cell phone. "I'm across the street from their house, and I see a silver Mercedes coming down the driveway...that's his, isn't it? I'll just tail him to wherever, just a trial run, even if it's to the grocery store."

She put her Ciera in gear. "Good luck," said Brian Johansen. The Mercedes turned left onto Alpine Road, and the Ciera followed at a distance of about a block. The Mercedes began to pick up speed. "He may know he's being followed," said Jones.

The Mercedes turned left onto Foothill Expressway, and so did the Ciera. "We've got a little tail, Fox," said the Smoking Man. "Let's see whether we can lose her..." he increased the speed to fifty, fifty-five. The Ciera stuck to them like a burr. "The bitch!" he said grimly. "I was just going to Wilkes Bashford! Now we'll take another route," and he turned left onto Alpine again. The Ciera stayed with him. "Shoot her," said the Smoking Man.

"What?" asked Mulder, unprepared for this. "You heard me. Draw your weapon, shoot her!" Mulder pulled his Glock out of his waistband, leaned out the window and fired. The bullet shattered the windshield, missed her by a centimeter.

"I'm being fired on!" Jones said urgently into the cell phone. "He shot out the windshield!"

"Pull back, pull back!" said Johansen frantically. "Shoot back if you have to!"

She dropped back a bit.

"Fire again," said the CSM tightly, decreasing his speed.

Mulder fired, aiming at the tires. He hit one and the Ciera slewed wildly across the road.

"Good!" said the Smoking Man. "I'll circle round and get her. You know where to aim, Fox."

Amanda Jones watched in dread as the Mercedes pulled around and headed back toward her. She threw the car into reverse, tried to execute the same maneuver, but the Ciera handled poorly on three tires. She pulled out her Sig and held it at the ready as the Mercedes approached, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't hold it steadily, even with both hands. The Mercedes pulled alongside at about 30 mph, and to her lasting horror, she saw Mulder lean out the passenger's window, take aim and fire into her chest.

The Smoking Man accelerated to 60 mph. "You got her!" he said exultantly, clapping Mulder on the back. "If you missed her heart, you surely tore through her aorta, judging by the amount of blood I saw," he said clinically.

Mulder slumped in his seat, feeling sick. "I just killed an innocent woman," he said. "I'm a murderer."

The CSM glanced at him. "She wasn't innocent! She was your enemy! You did well, Fox! I think we'll hold off on Wilkes Bashford till tomorrow, but in the meantime, would you like Alex?"

"Well, I'd love Alex," Mulder said, thinking, he rewards me, with money, sex, and approval, for doing things that would make a reptile blush.

"Then you shall have him! Why don't you two go for a ride, screw like crazed weasels...you know best what to do with him."

When they returned home, the Old Man explained what had transpired on the drive to Alex, and that Mulder had him the rest of the day. "My love," said Alex, licking Mulder's neck, "you did well. Let's play!"

They decided on a shower together. "I need to fuck you," said Mulder. "I think it would be great if you'd bend over and grab your ankles...like that! Do you want my great big cock?"

"Oh, you know I do, Mulder! Shove it in me!"

Mulder first insinuated one finger. "You're wide enough," he said, trying not to think of the reason why. He slid his slippery cock up Krycek, who gasped and moaned. Then he reached around and grabbed Krycek's cock, stroking it as he fucked him. "Let's try to come together," he said, thinking of the scene on the sectional. "I'll tell you when I'm about ready."

"I'm ready," he gasped a few moments later. "Me too," said Krycek, and they came together, screaming and shooting come.

"Now let's go to bed," Mulder said. "I owe you a suck. Want one?"

"I'd love one," said Krycek.

************************************************************************

Scully got the call at 1 in the afternoon: Amanda Jones, shot through the chest, most of her left ventricle and aorta shot away. They were giving her blood by the gallon.

Scully and White arrived in the Stanford ER, Scully tense, White horrified. "She's in the OR," a nurse informed them. "I'm a medical doctor," Scully said. "It doesn't matter," the nurse said. "It's very touch and go. She's extremely critical. It's a miracle she's not dead yet."

Two hours later, the nurse came and got them. "She's in ICU now," she said. "Second floor. They were able to repair the damaged organs, and, well, I don't know how to put this, but she seems to be healing at an extremely accelerated--"

White and Scully took off at a run for the escalator.

The patient was awake. Her chest was bandaged and there was a little blood leakage, but nothing serious. She looked at them, mouthed some words.

"She can't talk," said a nurse. "We don't know why; she just can't."

"Well, can she write?" asked Scully. "Get her a pad."

"I don't know if she should," said the nurse doubtfully, but returned with a pad of paper and a pen.

"Who did this to you?" asked Scully.

Jones picked up the pen, held it between thumb and forefinger, brought it slowly to her lips.

"The Smoking Man!" cried Scully. 

Jones shook her head slightly, struggled to write on the pad, but the effort was too great. She pointed to Scully and White, signaled them to hold hands. "I don't get it," said Scully.

Jones held her hands up to form two ears and made some small "yip"s. 

"Dog?" asked Scully. "No? Coyote? Oh," she said, went green and sagged. She would have fallen had not White caught her.

"Fox?" she whispered. Jones nodded her head. "Mulder did this to you?" Another nod. Scully willed herself not to cry. She had to appear strong for the young woman's sake. "Are you sure it wasn't Alex Krycek?"

Jones nodded. "Oh, God," Scully said, and this time she did faint. She came to in the bed next to Jones's.

"It's very hard news," said White gravely. "If this is true, and I have no reason to doubt the lady's veracity, it means that Mulder has gone completely around the bend. He will do anything to gain the old man's approval, plus all the other perks he's getting."

"Hey, I can talk!" said Jones suddenly. "I'm getting better, I can feel it. St. Sharon said no harm would come to me. She is healing me!"

Scully rose from the bed, went over to Jones and gently raised her bandage. Indeed, she was completely healed over. "I don't know what shape your internal organs are in, but the outer tissue is fine, Amanda. Boy! You keep getting shot and making miraculous recoveries! You're amazing! And, lucky for Mulder too!" she said darkly. "I still can't believe he shot you!"

"Believe it," said Jones briefly. "I saw, and heard, and felt him do it!"

"He has gone wholly over to the dark side, then," said Scully. "There is no hope of redemption."

"There is always hope of redemption," said a voice at the door. It was a very pretty young nurse, her blonde hair in a bun. "In life, there is hope, and even in death, there is hope. The man who did this will find his own way, his own path to redemption."

They were distracted by something on the televised news, and when they looked back, the nurse was gone. "That was her," said Jones. "That was the angel."

************************************************************************

Mulder drifted off to sleep, dreaming he approached a beautiful woman on a throne, sitting with a sword across her lap. She was wearing a white dress with a blue mantle, and she had long blonde hair. "My child," she said, "what you did was a great evil, and you will have to answer for it." She lifted the sword; flames ran along its edges. "Be forewarned: the time is nigh when I shall drive you from Paradise. When the Sleeping Giant begins to awaken, then you will leave."

He awoke confused. "What time is it, and where am I, and where is the angel?" he asked.

"It's 3:00, time for a light ride, you are here with me, lover, and I don't know of any angel."

"Let's fuck first," said Mulder. "Put me in the handcuffs." Krycek cuffed him to the bed and mounted him. Mulder was so turned on he came in a few strokes, yelling, and Krycek quickly followed. "OK," said Mulder. "Now we'll go for a ride."

They walked outside and talked to Bob while they saddled their horses: Mulder decided to chance Diablo, and Krycek chose Guardian. "Does he ride?" Mulder asked idly.

"Who, Bob? Yeah, he does, really well. Hey, Guardian, take the bit already."

"No, I meant the Old Man."

"As a matter of fact, he's an excellent rider, just doesn't ride much anymore. Getting too old, I guess. We used to ride all the time at the Hidden Valley ranch."

"He's just full of surprises, isn't he?" Mulder asked.

Krycek, fastening the cinch, looked over at him. "You're still upset over what happened today. Don't be. Look, by being part of his entourage, you are a desperado by definition. As Superchicken says, 'you knew the job was dangerous when you took it, buck buck buck buck!'"

Mulder laughed. "I remember that cartoon! And I guess you're right. Why do I feel I've sold my soul to the Devil?"

"You can choose to look at it that way, or you can reframe...come on, you're the psychologist." He swung aboard Guardian. "Come on, Mulder. We're waiting for you."

Mulder mounted Diablo. "Wow, he's full of piss and vinegar, isn't he?" he asked, as the stallion danced and half-bucked.

"We'll blow 'em out," said Krycek. "That'll get rid of that excess energy."

They galloped at top speed into Foothills Park, around in a great circle of maybe a mile diameter, then back. "Wow!" said Mulder. "That was awesome!"

"Better than sex?" Krycek grinned, reining in Guardian.

"As a matter of fact, no," said Mulder. "But pretty damned good!"

Their evening meal was Chinese: yu-zhang pork, garlic chicken and eggplant, chicken salad, rice and fried wontons. "Bill, this is good!" exclaimed Mulder.

"Thanks!" beamed Runningwater. "I don't often cook Chinese."

"Well, you should cook it more often," said the Smoking Man. "You do a great job!" To Mulder, he said, "Do you want Alex tonight, or may I have him back?"

"Well, of course I'd like him," Mulder said, blushing, "but if you need him, you may have him."

Krycek looked from one to the other, smiling. "I think I do need him," said Mulder's father, and rose from his seat. "Alex, come to bed with me. It's time for your shot anyway."

Mulder watched them disappear into the master bedroom. He shook his head. This was just too bizarre.

************************************************************************

Scully had an uneasy dream. She dreamed of St. Sharon, as she was in life, a young girl in a white peasant dress and sandals. "Sharon," she said, "why does God allow these things to go on? The thing that happened to Mulder..."

"Child," said the girl, "even I don't know all the answers! I do know, however, that a great good will come out of Mulder's grievous defection and his terrible crime."

Scully dreamed she wept bitterly. She woke up to find her face and the pillow wet, David sleeping soundly next to her. She felt around for the lamp switch and felt something odd on her nightstand. She found the switch, turned on the light and saw a single red rose. "Dave," she said, nudging him awake. "Dave! Did you put this here?"

He rolled over, looked at it. "No, honey," he said.

There was a ribbon around the rose. "Wait -- this says something!" she said. "Written in a tiny script: Life is a lot like this rose, thorny, beautiful, fragile, ephemeral, yet in the end, fruitful. R.O.S."

"'R.O.S'?" she asked. "Rose of Sharon? Oh, my God! I'll treasure this all my life!" She cried again, but they were tears of joy.

She showed her husband-to-be the rose and the ribbon again when he was fully awake. "It's extraordinary," he finally said.

"It's a sign," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's a sign of hope."

"Then why are you crying, Dana?" he asked softly, gathering her into his arms.

"I'm so touched, so moved by it! It appeared out of nowhere, a small miracle."

"You're not still crying over Mulder? If you do need to cry, please go ahead and get all the hurt, the poison out of your system. It's therapeutic to cry, you know that."

"Yes, I'm still crying over Mulder," she said, and began to sob convulsively. "It d-doesn't h-help that I'm pre-pregnant, Dave. Oh, Dave!" and she cried wildly. "Oh, Dave!"

"I know," he said, hugging her. "I know Mulder is the love of your life. I know that, Dana. It bothered me at first, then it bothered me a great deal when he fucked you, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I just feel very sorry for you, sorry that you fell in love with such a creep."

"He's not a creep," she said, "He's a b-beautiful per-person."

"A beautiful person who betrays his country, is implicated in many murders and who shoots a big hole in a wonderful woman?"

Scully cried harder and harder. "I'm g-gonna die!" she said, "I'm gonna d-die from th-these emotions! I'm gonna h-hurt to d-death!"

"No you're not, Dana. You will live! You will prosper! Think of the new lives within you, the beautiful blue-eyed children you're bringing into the world! What a miracle that is! Think of that and be happy!"

"Oh my G-God, you're r-right," she said. "Our b-babies, our pr-precious, precious b-babies. All the m-more reason, th-though, to hate M-Mulder, if h-he's helping t-to bring about th-the end of the w-world. I d-don't want to l-live in the k-kind of world h-he and his f-father are creating."

"Dana, I'm not a religious person, you know that, but I believe we've been given a sign of hope, and look, we've witnessed a miraculous recovery from what should have been a fatal gunshot wound. These are signs, Dana, signs that we must keep on going, keep on caring, loving, hoping. And yes, Dana, not that I'm religious; I'm not, but doesn't the Bible tell us to 'love thine enemies'? Somehow, you've got to find it in your heart to forgive Fox Mulder."

She looked at him and nodded. "I w-will try," she said, no longer sobbing but hiccuping. White got her a glass of spring water from the cooler. "Try this," he said.

"Thanks," she said, and began to calm down. "It's true, I love Mulder so much, and what has happened to him is very d-dreadful. He's become a different person. I don't know him anymore."

"But you still love him."

"I still love him."

************************************************************************

"Today, Fox, I'm going to visit the seven companies that are producing the chips. They're mostly in San Jose. In the evening, I'm meeting with the aliens. I'd like you with me both times."

Mulder nodded. "All right. Is Alex going?"

"Alex doesn't want to go. I think he's coming down with the flu or something. We'll take the Porsche."

The first company they visited was the original supplier, VisiTek. They were producing units at the rate of 2,000 a week. Mulder was visibly impressed. "They seem extremely well-organized," Mulder said.

"They are," said the Smoking Man. "Now, on to the next company. It's called Lexon." He drove them to San Jose. "All the other firms are in San Jose, too," he said. They hopped from one to the next until they'd visited them all. "Well, what do you think?" asked the CSM.

"I think it's fantastic," said Mulder. "Just great. What an operation you have!"

His father nodded. "Yes, and we're expanding like crazy. We've got plants in Malaysia, the Philippines, India, Vietnam, that are geared up to go. And we'll get even more."

"So the ultimate goal is...?"

"To topple the governments of every country on the globe and leave the world in chaos and turmoil."

"Wow!" said Mulder. "And then the aliens colonize?"

"Then they colonize. Places like China and Siberia, not here."

"We hope," said Mulder.

The CSM looked at him, lit a cigarette. "We hope," he said quietly.

"How many people do you plan on killing?"

"Initially, oh, maybe 20,000. Later, more like 50,000,000. The microchip can and will be introduced into things like Palm Pilots, calculators, fax machines, microwaves, and so on."

"That makes you the biggest mass murderer in history, Dad."

"Hey, hold your horses! It hasn't happened yet!"

"But it will," said Mulder thoughtfully. "It will."

When they arrived home the CSM went immediately to check on Krycek. "Alex is really sick," he said, coming back into the kitchen. "He's got a temp of 102."

"Give him aspirin, wait two hours, give him Motrin, wait two hours, give him aspirin," said Bill Runningwater, looking up from the brownies he was baking. "Also, you might try giving him a cool bath."

The CSM went to run the bath and he and Mulder helped Krycek off with his clothes and into the tub. "I'm burning up on the inside, but cold on the outside," said Krycek.

"That's to be expected," said the Smoking Man. "Stay in the tub till you begin to cool down." Krycek began to shiver convulsively and Mulder leaned into the water to embrace him. 

"I'm c-cold now," said Krycek. "Can I come out?"

They helped him out and back into bed. "Please," he said. "I need someone with me. I feel really depressed," and a tear rolled down his face.

"It's the flu," said Bill Runningwater, coming in to observe. "That's why you feel bad psychologically."

"We'll stay with you, Alex," said the CSM. "Fox will stay with you for a while, then I will."

Mulder shed his clothes and climbed in bed next to Krycek, embracing him. The poor thing was burning and shivering at the same time. "He's having pretty bad chills," he observed.

"Just stay with him, hold him, as you're doing."

"Thanks, Mulder," Krycek said gratefully, shivering. Mulder intertwined his limbs with Krycek's, to make contact with as much surface area as possible. 

"That's good," said the CSM, and left the room. It was a good thing, too, because in touching Krycek, Mulder discovered he was hard. He began to stroke his cock, slowly at first, then harder and faster, and Krycek came with a strangled cry on Mulder's hand and the bed. "THAT'S gotta make you feel better!" Mulder said.

"It does, thank you!"

At 5:30 the CSM went to get Mulder. "Get up, Fox, get dressed. It's time to go meet the aliens."

Mulder pulled on jeans, a sweatshirt, his running tennies and a jacket. "OK, I'm ready!" he called. They drove into Foothills Park. "Damn, there's a ranger," said the CSM, who pulled out his gun, aimed and fired from a distance of 100 feet. The poor ranger dropped like a stone. "How many of those guys have you killed?" asked Mulder. The Smoking Man shook his head.

They walked up a grassy hill and waited. They didn't have too long to wait; the craft appeared over the horizon and with an odd thrumming noise and much flashing of red and blue lights, the creatures themselves came to earth, walking to the CSM. Mulder watched in utter fascination as one of them touched his father's hand. They seemed to be communicating telepathically. 

"I just told him that you are my son, and closely allied with me in my efforts," the man said. "They have accepted you. They are very happy about the results of the tests we performed, and they think our plans are fine. Everything is going according to our schedule."

Mulder nodded. He held out his hand to the creature, who took it. "So you are the great man's son?" he (or it) thought at him. "You are following in his footsteps? This is very good. There is little physical resemblance." It thought. Mulder laughed. "No," he said. "I look like my mother." The being gazed at him; its great black eyes blinked once, twice. Mulder looked away for a fraction of a second and it was gone; they were all gone, and the craft was disappearing over the hill. A late-night hiker saw it go. Seeing the other car in the parking lot, he ran down to talk to the driver. "Did you see that?" he called excitedly. "I saw a UFO!"

The driver turned toward him; there was a flash and a pop, and the hiker looked down at his ruined chest, his life's blood pumping away. He fell.

"Did you have to do that?" asked Mulder.

"I had to do it," said the CSM quietly. "We just can't risk having any witnesses."

"There may have been others, you know."

"If they call in reports, I get them immediately. Then I can take care of them."

"What have I gotten myself into?" Mulder asked, on the drive back.

The CSM glanced at him. "The greatest adventure of your life. You have the raw material, courage, brains, drive, intuition; you just need to learn to love to take risks; and you must harden yourself. You are sensitive, Fox. You need to subsume that sensitivity into toughness."

Mulder sighed. 

************************************************************************

"Your recovery is nothing short of miraculous," the attending physician told Amanda Jones, peering at her over his reading glasses. "You're completely healed, internally and externally. There is no readily available scientific explanation for this. You can go home tomorrow, if you wish."

"I wish," she smiled.

"Get your friends, Dr. Scully and Dr. White, to come get you tomorrow. Dr. Scully is a physician, and you live in the same house? You are very lucky."

"Yes, I am," she said. No thanks to Mulder, she thought. A nurse came in to change her dressings, found the wound completely healed and left the bandages off. "It's amazing!" she said. "You're the miracle girl! I heard this happened to you before, and it was the same guy who shot you?"

"It was his associate," said Jones tiredly. "An ex-friend of ours."

***********************************************************************

"How's my Alex?" asked the Smoking Man.

"I'm better, thank you," said Krycek.

"I think you're still in some discomfort. I'll hold you tonight, Alex."

"Thank you," said Krycek. A little later, he said, "fuck me," and the man was happy to comply. During the night, his fever broke, and he slept soundly the rest of the night.

***********************************************************************

"Fox," the man said at the breakfast table, "the aliens will shortly be marshaling their forces. The extra ships you discovered in Santa Cruz with cloaking devices were indeed hidden again in the Gavilan Mountains, as you surmised. I imagine they will circle the globe soon enough. We are aiming our next effort at China, and if the government topples, as I imagine it will, then we're well on our way. We won't have a meeting today, as I've already called every party in our group with updates."

"Will we be going to China?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. My connections there are rather tenuous."

"Oh? I thought you had a complete international power base."

"Not complete, unfortunately. We won't go to China. However, I did send a number of gifts, with the microprocessors installed, to the Premier, his associates and his family. The same thing should happen to them that occurred in the Peruvian case. So far, no one except Skinner and your group has made the connection between the computers and other products and the deaths. Your group knows about the lethality of the chips but hasn't yet gone public with it, and I predict they won't, as it is of course top secret, and they want to keep it that way."

Krycek came wandering out to the kitchen, shaggy-haired, unshaven and bedraggled. He had a wracking cough which shook him hard.

"That cough is nasty," said Bill Runningwater. "Codeine."

"Fuck, I'm already on heroin, what do you want? It's an opiate."

"Then maybe you're not on enough," said the CSM. "I'll get you a shot."

He brought it to the table. "Your arm, Alex."

Mulder looked away; he could never stand to see that done. "Don't be so squeamish, Fox," the CSM said, undoing the rubber tubing he'd used to tie Krycek off. "It's a fact of life around here, you know."

"I know," said Mulder, "but it's still hard."

Krycek dozed at the table. "Eat something, Alex," said Bill Runningwater.

"I'm not hungry," Krycek said. "Just terribly thirsty." Runningwater set orange juice and 7-up in front of him. "You should be getting lots and lots of fluids."

"Whose am I today?" Krycek asked, downing about a quart of orange juice.

"Neither, or both, or whomever," said the CSM. "It's up to you."

"I'd like people, whoever, to hold me again," Krycek said hopefully. "Why don't you trade off, like yesterday?"

The CSM nodded. "Sounds good to me," said Mulder.

"Look!" said the Smoking Man suddenly, reaching for the San Jose Mercury. "China's Premier, his wife, and several cabinet members all died of a mysterious brain fever thought to be encephalitis," he read, his eyes gleaming.

"Good Christ," said Mulder softly. "It has come to pass."

"Yes! It's just a matter of time before the government crumbles. I've got to run errands, Fox. I'd take you with me, but I'd like you to stay here and watch over Alex. Take care of him, do whatever he wants."

The Smoking Man was out the door and into his Porsche. Mulder watched him thoughtfully, then beckoned to Krycek. "Come to my room," he said. He lay Krycek down, then lay with him. He must have dozed. He dreamed he'd left his body and was standing in the room. The walls dissolved into bright light, and a being of light approached him. It was the angel, holding her sword aloft. Flames rippled along the edges. "Now is the time I must drive you out of Paradise," she said. "Take Alex with you; take necessities; get yours and Alex's money out of the bank, and stay in a motel. Call your friends and warn them of the coming holocaust; approach a local television station and tape a message to the world. In this way you will have redeemed yourself for your terrible crimes."

Mulder went back into his body and woke up. "Alex, Alex!" he said urgently, shaking Krycek awake. "Darling, we've got to go!" He dragged a couple of suitcases off the shelf in the closet, started throwing clothes and toiletries in them. "Alex, how much cash have you got on hand?"

"About 2 thousand," Krycek said groggily. 

"And how much in the bank?"

"Oh, who knows? A million and a half, maybe."

"Good. Get up, Sweetheart, we have to leave." He was halfway out the door when he remembered: Krycek's drugs. "Where does he keep your stuff, Alex?"

"Um, second bathroom, third drawer. There should be a bunch of made-up syringes." There were, and Mulder swept them into the suitcase.

"We're off, now, Sweetheart. Here's your coat," he said, handing Krycek his black leather jacket.

They left right under Bill Runningwater's nose. He said nothing. They piled into Mulder's rental car and roared up the drive, pressing the remote to open the gate. Bill Runningwater watched them go, then punched a number into the phone. "Hey, it's me. Krycek and Mulder just left with suitcases, in Mulder's car...OK, I'll see you."

The man at the other end of the line called the police, directing them to put out an APB on the car. Mulder drove first to the rental agency and changed cars. Then he went to his and Alex's banks and withdrew a large amount of cash. His third move was to check into a local motel, one in Menlo Park. From there, he called Scully.

"Scully, it's me, Mulder."

"Mulder! Mulder who?"

"Scully, no games, please. Alex and I have left him and we're on the run. Scully, I want to give you some information," and he told her everything he'd learned from the Smoking Man.

"Sounds plausible," she said. "I'll think about it. How do I know, though, that you're not just feeding me another red herring?"

"Scully, I'm not. You've got to believe me! Trace this call! You'll see where it's coming from!"

"It could still be some sort of elaborate ruse that I wouldn't put past him. Anyway, you attempted murder, Mulder. It was only attempted because Amanda made a remarkable recovery."

"I know," he said desperately, "I'm willing to answer to all my crimes. Just please believe me!"

"I'll think about it," she said, and hung up. Mulder stared at the phone. Then he started calling TV stations. He found one, channel 4, that would take his story, which he'd made considerably milder and dumbed-down, with the understanding that it would be syndicated to CNN and sent all over the world, translated into many languages. He showed up for the spot wearing his best suit, his hair spit-combed. He was sent to Makeup to be touched-up.

"Roll 'em," said the producer, and Mulder spoke: "I am Fox Mulder, of the FBI, and I have an important announcement to make. There is a defective microprocessor, which looks like this, [holding it up], in many computerized appliances on the market today. This processor can actually cause a form of encephalitis, a brain disease which effectively kills the person, simply by turning on the appliance. Do not buy or accept as a gift any new computers, fax machines, hand-held computers like Palm Pilots, microwave ovens, calculators, printers, scanners, digital cameras, stereos, personal stereos, Walkmen-type radios and tape players, Watchmen, Discmen, VCRs, DVDs, irons and coffee makers with automatic shut-off switches...If you have purchased any of these items within the last month or so, take them back to the store. Do not, repeat DO NOT turn them on. They will invariably kill the first person to be exposed. No part of the world is safe from these items; they have been shipped all over the world. Thank you."

"Got it in one take, pretty good!" said the producer approvingly. "Yes, this will go over well on CNN. You are very photogenic and have an excellent voice and delivery."

Mulder nodded. "I'm going now," he said. He drove to the motel, where Alex was sleeping. "Darling," Mulder said softly. "I'll just lie down with you for a moment."

***********************************************************************

The CSM returned home, frantic. The APB for that vehicle had turned it up at a rental agency, and there was no record of a "Fox Mulder" renting another car. The Smoking Man tried the alias that Mulder used while traveling, and that turned up nothing also. "Damn them!" he said. "I loved them! Why did they betray me?" Bill Runningwater saw the hurt and rage in his eyes and watched him, his heart very heavy; but he said nothing.

The phone rang and the CSM grabbed it. "It is I," said the Well-Manicured Man. "You'd better tune to CNN right now."

The Smoking Man clicked on the TV. Incredibly, there was Mulder, and he was telling the world's population not to buy the "defective" products. He saw Mulder, he heard Mulder, and he saw and heard the ruin of his world falling down around him. "No! No!" he cried, hurling the remote against the TV. "No!" and he sank to his knees. "No!"

A few miles away, Agent Dana Scully was watching the same transmission. One tear found its way out of her left eye, then its twin from her right, and they rolled down her face unheeded. "Mulder," she whispered, "Mulder, I forgive you."

"Alex, Alex, wake up! I'm on TV!" Mulder said, shaking Krycek slightly. Krycek sat up and watched. "Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck. You are fuckin' amazing, Mulder."

"Alex, we've got to go to Foothills Park. I feel drawn there. Can you get up enough to go with me?"

"Yes," said Krycek. "I can." He slipped on his jacket. "I'm ready."

"Bill, I'm going to Foothills Park. I may never see you again," the CSM said, smiling his wry smile. "I think they'll take me." Runningwater hugged him, crying. "I love you," he said, "I've always loved you."

"I've always loved you, too," said the man.

He got into his Porsche and drove.

The craft was already there, waiting for him. He stood under it in the bright beam of light. From somewhere on board, the thought: you've failed us. "I know," he said. He was dimly aware of two men running toward him over the long lawn, and of a young girl or woman in a shimmering white dress approaching him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "You, even you, can redeem yourself," she said.

"What must I do?" he asked.

"That will become apparent to you very soon," she said, and faded away into the night.

The men reached him. "Stand back!" he cried. "This is my battle." Then he recognized them, Krycek and Mulder. As one, they moved into the light with him. He looked at them. "I forgive you, Alex and Fox. I love you both." "I love you, Father," said Mulder, hugging him. "I love you, lover," said Krycek, taking his face in his hands and kissing him. The light became intense, blinding, and suddenly Krycek was kissing Mulder, and they were alone in the light; then it faded, and the craft darted away.

"No!" cried Krycek, running along underneath it. "No! You can't do this! You can't take him! He's an old man! He can't stand those tests!"

Mulder started to run after Krycek but suddenly someone tugged on his jacket. He looked down and beheld Cassandra Spender.

************************************************************************

"Mulder's in Foothills Park, I'm sure of it!" said Scully. "Get everyone in the SUV, quick!" They pounded out to round up the team. "Frohike'll have to sit in someone's lap, Langly," she said, looking at that party pointedly. "Deal with it!"

She broke every speed limit getting to the park, squealed around the curves and into the parking lot. "Oh, my God!" she said, "look!" The alien spacecraft was above the lawn 100 yards ahead. There were three men huddled in an intense beam of light, and as she looked, suddenly there were only two, plus a small woman, and one of the men, yelling in Krycek's voice, was chasing the darting ship.

"Oh my God," Scully said again. "Come on!" she shouted, and everyone ran toward the trio on the lawn. Mulder was running after Krycek, so they reached Cassandra Spender first, who was standing with a bemused expression on her perky little face. "Cassandra!" Scully said. "I'm so glad you're all right!"

"Yes, so am I, but I'm even more glad to be back on Earth. What the hell happened?" she asked. Scully shook her head. She heard a shout. Mulder had tackled Krycek and was pinning him to the ground.

"Darling, calm yourself," Mulder said. "It's OK. He'll be all right. And think, Alex, we're free now! No fears, no 'sharing' you, no horrible crimes I've got to commit." Krycek looked at him and began to cry, a tearing sound that was terrible to hear. "Darling, Darling," said Mulder, and gathered him up in his arms, Krycek sobbing on his shoulder. White ran up to them. "Is he all right?" he asked, concerned.

"I think so," said Mulder. "He's been sick with the flu, now he's lost his friend."

"What friend? The person who was with you in the light? Was he abducted? Who is he?"

Mulder looked at him. "My father," he said slowly, "and yes, he was abducted. I think he gave us Cassandra Spender in his place."

"Sounds like a fair trade to me," said White.

Mulder stood up. "I remand myself into your custody," he said, "to stand trial for the attempted murder of Amanda Jones and for my complicity in hundreds of murders."

White waved. "Forget it," he said. "You know, and I know, that you were under the influence of the most notorious Svengali of all time. He could get anyone to do anything, and he did."

"You mean that?" asked Mulder.

"I mean it," said White. "Scully's forgiven you, too. She won't arrest you. Johansen will go along with us. Amanda Jones? She will forgive you when you tell her your story. Now, come, Mulder, bring Alex with you, we'll go out to a Lyons."

"You mean they took my ex-husband in my place?" Cassandra Spender asked, then grinned. "How could I possibly get so lucky? The biggest bastard of them all!"

"I object to that," said Alex Krycek, approaching on her right.

"Alex," said Mulder, putting a hand on his arm.

"I'm dying for a cigarette," said Cassandra. "We can't smoke up there."

Scully couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. "Oh he's REALLY gonna suffer then!"

Krycek gave her a dirty look. He reached in a jacket pocket. "Here," she said, handing a pack to Cassandra.

"Morleys," she said. "My ex's brand. You don't smoke, do you, Alex?"

"I always kept them on hand. He ran out frequently," said Krycek, turning away to avoid the question in her look.

"I have a feeling there're a lot of stories that need telling," Cassandra said, lighting a cigarette. "Can we go to a restaurant or something? I'd love to get just a hamburger."

"I'll treat you," said Scully, "to whatever on the menu you want."

They walked backed to their respective autos, some sadly, some ebulliently. "Ride with us, Cassandra," said Mulder.

On the way to the Lyons, she asked. "I sense there are relationships here and there, but I can't quite make them out."

"OK," said Mulder, "are you ready for this?" Krycek started crying again.

"Why's he so upset?" Cassandra asked, crinkling her brow. "I thought he hated the guy."

Mulder turned and looked at her.

"Oh," she said, "OH! Alex, you and he were...Oh, my God!" Krycek wept, his head in Mulder's lap.

"Wow!" she said. "I never would've guessed it...he was such a ladies' man, so unfaithful to me, but never with men, as far as I could tell."

"And if he hadn't been unfaithful, I wouldn't be here," said Mulder.

"Oh. OH! You're his--"

"I'm his son. As Samantha was his daughter."

"Oh," she said. "You know, there's a lot of new information here to digest."

"So why aren't you and Scully in the same car, Agent Mulder?"

"Why should we be?" he asked mildly.

She looked from him to Krycek, and back again. "Jesus Christ," she said, "You and Alex?"

"Yes. Scully has her own beau, Agent White."

She shook her head. "You guys," she said, "are too much. Too, too much."

In the restaurant, Krycek cried inconsolably till Scully took him aside. "Alex," she said softly, "when was the last time you had your drug?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Since morning, I think."

"OK, I'm going to take you out to the SUV and shoot you up. Then I'm going to take you into the men's room and mop your poor little face a little."

They went out to the car and Scully saw a look of peace steal over Krycek's face as she injected the drug. "Alex," she said gently, "you do realize that we're going to have to get you off heroin, right? You can do a hospital detox, then do a rehab program if you want."

He nodded. "I'll do whatever I have to do, Scully."

"OK, now for the men's room." There was someone standing at the urinal; he moved to cover his private parts. "Get over it!" she snapped. "I'm a doctor!"

They stood at the sink while Scully washed his face and combed his hair. "That hair's pretty wild, Alex," she said. "Ever think about getting it cut?"

"He liked it long," he said quietly.

"OK," she said, deciding not to push it.

Back at the table, Cassandra was describing her experiences aboard the alien ship to a more-than-rapt audience. Krycek sat down by Mulder and clung to him, listening fearfully. "When they weren't doing tests and God knows what, we got to sleep or hang out in a recreation room that had, oh, music, but not very contemporary music, books, things like that. It was pretty boring after a while."

"Were the tests very painful?" asked Krycek.

She looked at him, considered. "They weren't that bad," she said carefully. "I have a pretty low pain tolerance, and they didn't seem that bad to me."

He looked at her and his eyes welled with tears again. "You're lying," he said. "They were very painful. And they'll do them to him."

"I hope they do," she said without thinking, and clapped a hand over her mouth, as though to force back the words which had inadvertently escaped and were now running over the hills and dales of Krycek's imagination.

He put his head down on the table and sobbed. "Is he all right?" asked the waitress. "I could call a doctor."

"I'm a doctor," said Scully, "and he's all right. He's just had a terrible loss, he's in shock, he's grieving." The waitress nodded and took their orders. Mulder ordered a chocolate milkshake for Krycek, who was unlikely to eat anything else.

Cassandra put a cigarette to her lips. "Can't smoke inside!" several people said at once. "New laws," Scully explained. "Oh, for Pete's sake," Cassandra said, sighing.

"You know," she said, "it's just incredible to me that someone could actually care about that old bast-- I mean, that old guy," she amended, seeing Krycek's stricken face. "You really did, didn't you? Care about him, I mean?"

Krycek nodded. "I loved him." He hated using the past tense, but the past was all he had now.

The salads, and Krycek's milkshake, arrived. "And yet you also love Agent Mulder?" Cassandra asked Krycek. He nodded.

"I love him very, very much," he said, and kissed Mulder.

"I guess you do," said Cassandra. "Are gay people more open than they used to be?"

"It depends," said Mulder. "In the Bay Area, they've been open for decades."

"Yes," she said. "Where is this? What city am I in?"

"This is Palo Alto, California," Scully said. "Near Stanford University."

She nodded. "Near San Francisco, right? I've only been to San Francisco once."

"We'll take you there," said Scully. "We'll show you all around."

"I wonder how my son Jeff is doing?" Cassandra asked. "Has anyone heard anything about him? I thought he was supposed to be doing X-Files with you guys."

Scully shot a look at Mulder, and shook her head slightly.

"Cassandra," said Mulder, taking her arm, "we have something very very sad to tell you."

"Skies are clear," said Lt. Forbes into his helmet radio. "It's the first time I've seen them like that in months."

Beside him, Jimbo nodded. "This is great news!" he agreed. "Nothing on the radar at all. They're out of range, at least; maybe they're gone."

"They'll check the satellite transmissions when we land," Joe Forbes said. "Won't be that hard to ascertain, one way or the other."

"No, it won't," said Lt. Forbes. "The Big Guy'll be happy to hear about this."

"Hell," said Jimbo, "if I weren't flying a fighter right now, I'd jump for joy."

As they left the restaurant, Scully offered her spare room to Cassandra. "You'll need a place to stay," she said, "and you'll want to be with friends." 

"Thank you so much," said Cassandra gratefully. "I think I still have an account at a bank on the East Coast, otherwise I'm broke. You folks are too kind!"

"Not at all," said Scully. "We're honored to have you with us. You can ride back with us - you're little, we can squeeze you in."

Mulder and Krycek were left alone. "Alex, you're coming home with me for a while," said Mulder, in the parking lot. "Maybe forever. Oh, Alex, to be living together at our house!"

Krycek turned his face up to be kissed, and Mulder kissed him passionately, tongue seeking and finding tongue, hands stroking his face, shoulders, arms, sliding under the waistband of his jeans to find his cock, which was hard, and stroking that.

"We'd better get home before we're arrested for an indecent display," said Mulder.

"All right," said Krycek. "I wanna fuck, Mulder."

"That's GOOD news, Alex!" Mulder drove as fast as he dared to the Victorian, helped Krycek with his bags and dragged them into his flat. Krycek already had half his clothes off. "Will you please bend me over the table or the bed?" he asked.

"I'd love to," Mulder said. "Bend over the table, Alex." He skinned off his jeans and took out his cock, slicking it with lube. He rubbed some lube on Krycek then plunged into him.

"Ah, God," said Krycek. "That's good, Mulder! Fuck me, fuck me hard with your great big-ah, omigod," he gasped, as Mulder grasped his cock and began to stroke it as he fucked him. 

"Let's come together," Mulder said, "I'll let you know when I'm ready. I'm getting pretty...damned...close, Alex."

"I'm coming now," said Krycek, arched his back, looked at the ceiling and screamed, as Mulder, holding him around the waist, pounded into him, yelling.

"That was amazing," said Mulder. "Just amazing. I don't think we've done that position more than once before," he said, separating from Krycek. "Was that one you did with him?"

"Yes," said Krycek briefly.

"Here's a robe, Alex. Want to watch some TV and go to bed?"

"Sure," said Krycek. "Let's cuddle on the couch."

"Let's."

Scully picked up Amanda Jones at the hospital at 9 in the morning. "We've got two new residents," she said carefully. "One of them is Alex Krycek. The other, Amanda, is Fox Mulder."

To her surprise, Jones merely nodded. "That's all right. I've forgiven him. He was acting under the influence of that evil man. He wasn't himself."

"Thank you," said Scully. "Thank you for saying that. And bless you!"

When they returned to the Emerson house, Scully went to Mulder's house and knocked.

"Scully? Come in," called Mulder. He was lying on the couch naked, entwined in the arms of another naked man.

"Oh, sorry," said Scully. 

"It's all right. We're just holding each other...Oh!" he saw Amanda Jones, sat up and pulled his jeans on hurriedly.

"It's OK," said Jones. "Look, Mulder, I just want you to know that I forgive you unconditionally. You were not in your right mind. You were temporarily insane."

"Yes, I suppose I was," he said, looking at his feet. "Thank you," he said, looking up, "You've given me a great gift."

"Everyone has forgiven you, Mulder," said Scully. "Everyone. All of us."

A tear leaked from one eye. "I don't deserve you as friends," he said, and his voice broke in a sob. Krycek, having pulled on his jeans, came to Mulder's side and embraced him.

"Of course you do, sweetheart, my darling angel," said Krycek, kissing him.

"We forgive you, too, Alex," Scully said gravely. "You went with Mulder when he left, and that took tremendous courage, courage I can't even imagine having." 

Krycek looked at her with shining eyes, then a tear and then another coursed down his face. "Thank you," he said huskily.

Mulder contacted Bill Runningwater and told him what happened. Runningwater cried but said it was what he expected. He confirmed that there was enough of Alex's drug at the house to last him for a couple of months. "OK," said Mulder. "Alex is going into hospital detox at that time, then. We'll put him in Stanford or El Camino. I didn't want to do it right away because he's in a great deal of pain over the abduction."

"I'm sure he is," said Runningwater. "Probably even more than he lets on. The thing is, Mulder, to love him and cuddle him. If he asks for sex a lot, that means he wants affection and love. He's in shock."

"OK," said Mulder.

In a few days, when Krycek felt a little stronger, he called the recording studio. "I'm ready to go, sign a contract, the works," he said.

"That's wonderful!" said ___ _____. "Can you come over day after tomorrow morning at 8 AM and we'll get things going?"

"I sure can," said Krycek.

"My name is Jerry Roberts," the voice on the phone told Mulder. "I represent the presumably deceased C.G.B. Spender in the matter of his will. You are named in the will, as are several other people. He made specific provisions for the inheritance to be distributed immediately upon abduction by aliens. Now, perhaps you know best about this, Mr. Mulder, but it has come to my attention that this, or something close enough to it, has happened to Mr. Spender. I will read the will in my office tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Please inform Mr. Alexei Krycek, who evidently resides with you."

"Who else is named in the will?" Mulder asked, interested.

"I'm not at liberty to say over the phone. You will find out, quickly enough."

Gathered for the reading of the will were Krycek, Mulder, Bill Runningwater, Cassandra Spender, the Well-Manicured Man and a couple of other people Mulder had never seen. One was a very ancient lady dressed in Ann Klein; he looked at her curiously.

Krycek was sniffling and blew his nose frequently in a handkerchief embroidered with the initials "C.G.B.S." Mulder nudged him. "Enough with the grieving widow routine," he whispered fiercely. This only served to make Krycek cry harder. He was the only person in the room doing this; everyone else was dry-eyed, with the exception of Mulder, who could feel some tears building up behind his lids.

"This is the last will and testament of Charles Gordon Bernard Spender, to be effective upon my death or abduction by alien races. In the matter of Cassandra Lynn Spender, if she is still alive and able to avail herself of this bequest: ten million dollars."

Cassandra gasped.

"In the matter of my mother, Elizabeth Ann Spender: my home in Martha's Vineyard; two hundred million dollars." The elderly lady put a hand to her face and looked as though she might faint.

"In the matter of _____ _____: My home in Cannes; my home in Newport News, Virginia; two million dollars."

The Well-Manicured Man nodded.

"To my faithful friend William Edward Runningwater: my homes in Portola Valley, California, Capitola, California, Soquel, California, and Boulder Creek, California; 50 million dollars."

Bill Runningwater looked down and a tear ran down his face.

"To loyal friend and lover Alexei Stefanovich Krycek, and to Fox William Mulder, my beloved son, all the rest of my possessions, split down the middle, to include: my homes in Grass Valley, California, South Lake Tahoe, California, Brentwood, California, and Hidden Valley, Utah; all my livestock; all my bonds and securities, valued as of the writing of this will at approximately 300 billion dollars; my business holdings, listed below, worth approximately 100 billion dollars, and cash on hand in the bank, valued at approximately 1.5 tril-"

Krycek's eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted.

He came to in the hallway, his head cradled in Mulder's lap. "It's OK," said Mulder. "All our problems are over forever, and we're filthy, stinking rich, Lexy."

"Did I hear a 'trillion' in there?" Krycek asked huskily. "He did say that he was worth more than the GNP of small nations."

"And so he was," said Mulder.

"I hate to think of him up there being tortured to death while we're down here spending all his hard-earned money," said Krycek sadly, and a tear or two leaked from his eyes. Looking at him, Mulder had to cry too.

The door to the law office opened and the rest of the legatees drifted out. The elderly lady went to Mulder. "I'm your grandmother, Fox," she said. He and Krycek stood and Mulder embraced her.

"I'm so glad to actually meet you!" he said.

"I didn't know he had a son still alive!" she remarked. "You must be one of his 'love children'. You carry Bill Mulder's name, though."

He grinned. "I do. My mother was Teena Mulder."

Elizabeth Spender put a hand to her face. "Oh! Oh, my goodness, you'll have to fill me in on all of it!"

He linked an arm through one of hers. "Let's all go to a really nice restaurant," he said, "and we'll fill you in."

Back at their flat, Mulder and Krycek tore every stitch of clothing off each other and made love for four hours. "We haven't done the handcuffs yet," said Krycek, holding them up.

"OK, let's do the handcuffs. You first." He cuffed Krycek to the bed. Krycek had yet another hard-on and to Mulder's surprise, he had too. Mulder teased him, kissing him, tongue exploring and meeting tongue, licked his perfect cupid's-bow lips, licked down his chin and his neck, his throat, his chest, pulled on his nipple rings, licked and sucked them, licked down his chest, his navel and kissed his cock.

"Get inside me!" said Krycek desperately. "I'm gonna come really fast!"

Mulder thrust himself inside his lover and Krycek groaned. After three strokes he came, splashing Mulder with his hot come, then Mulder came, screaming.

"I may not let you go," Mulder said. "This way, I can have my way with you whenever I want."

"Haha," said Krycek, "like you don't already?"

Mulder kissed him. "My turn in the cuffs," he said.

Krycek clipped him to the bed. "Darling," he said, kissing him, kissing him, "Lisitsa."

"I thought you couldn't use that word anymore, that you could just use it for him?"

"He's gone. I reclaimed it," said Krycek shortly. "Lisa, lisitsa, my love, don't talk so much. Just swim, my darling, in the sea of sensation."

"I'm hard again," said Mulder.

"I know, sweetheart. Wonderfully hard. Want me to tease you, or do you want to be fucked right away?"

"Right away!" gasped Mulder.

"'K'," said Krycek, kissing him, drawing a wet line down his midsection with his tongue, biting his nipple rings, pulling them gently.

"Hey, you're teasing!"

"And you love it, lyubov!" He sucked Mulder gently, reached underneath to rim him.

"I'm gonna come," warned Mulder.

"OK, now I'm gonna fuck you," said Krycek, and mounted him, shoving into him as far as he could. Within a few strokes they came together, yelling and screaming. There was a knock on the door.

"Ignore it," said Mulder.

The knock repeated itself, insistent.

"WHAT?" called Mulder.

"It's dinnertime," said Scully. Or are you two so preoccupied with eating each other that you can't think about food? She thought.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," called Mulder.

"So," said Scully, serving them ham, green beans and mashed potatoes, "what happened at the reading today?"

"Oh, we're filthy stinking rich," said Krycek nonchalantly. "You must have heard from Cassandra, Scully. Pass the applesauce, please."

"Shoot, even I am," said Cassandra. "I really didn't think he'd leave me anything but a by-your-leave. If that!" she said, laughing.

"The best part, for me, was meeting my grandmother. The worst part was Alex's grieving widow bit," Mulder said, eyeing Krycek.

"It wasn't a 'bit'; it was perfectly real," said Krycek, and indeed, a tear leaked out of one eye, then the other. "'Scuse me," he said dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"You two," Cassandra said, gesturing with a forkful of ham at Mulder and Krycek, "really cared about the old b-the old man."

"Krycek'd been under his thrall for a very long time," said Scully, "and then the old man lured Mulder in with Krycek. Once he'd gotten him there, he went to work on him psychologically."

"Doesn't sound like any kind of caring scenario," said Cassandra, swallowing beans. "You don't know how good this food is, after the glop they gave us on the ship. All synthetic, all yuck."

"I was living there, and they were treating me royally, like a prince," said Mulder thoughtfully. "I was living in luxury. I had the Old Man's approval. I had hot and cold running Alex. I was gradually inducted into their ways and into his secrets, till I was willing to actually kill someone for him."

"Wow!" said Cassandra. "You murdered, for him?"

"It would have been murder," said Scully, "but she miraculously healed, and here she is," she said, indicating Amanda Jones.

"Oh," said Cassandra. "He shot you, and you didn't die, and it was a miracle?"

"He did, and I didn't, and it was," said Jones gravely.

"Good thing she's OK," said Scully, giving Mulder a look. "At the same time, I know why it happened. I took psychology classes too, Mulder."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm really glad you're OK, Amanda."

"Think nothing further of it," she said.

"So the old man treated Alex really well, and that's why he stayed?"

Mulder sat up straighter. "Alex, show Cassandra your back."

"At the dinner table, Mulder?" asked Scully mildly.

"Go ahead, show her!" Krycek rose from the table, took off his jacket and pulled up his shirt, turning around.

"Scars," said Cassandra. "You've got scars? You're saying he did that to you?"

Krycek barely nodded, pulled his shirt down and sat down.

"So he was an abusive monster, and that's why you stayed with him for how long?"

"Eight years," said Krycek. "But he wasn't always abusive. Usually he was really sweet. This happened when he learned I'd been unfaithful to him."

"With Mulder?" asked Cassandra, taking a sip of burgundy.

"Yeah."

"Yet he got Mulder to stay with you guys, then he let you be with Mulder?"

"Yeah, he did. They traded off. I got Mulder one day, the Old Man the next."

Cassandra laughed. "Too much!" she said. "A love triangle, existing in the same house!"

"Yeah. I loved him and Mulder. Mulder loved me. The old man loved me. Mulder and the old man loved each other as father and son."

"Guess that about wraps it up," said Cassandra. "Hey, he must have cared about you both an awful lot, in his own twisted, demented way, to have left you all that stuff. Hey, you know, I'm sorry, but I can't get over what happened to Jeffrey. He was shot by a friend? What kind of friend would do that kind of thing?"

Mulder looked at Scully. "I'll tell her," he said quietly. "Cassandra, maybe we could talk in the living room a moment?"

There was the sound of Mulder's voice, soft, low, explaining the terrible circumstances of Jeff Spender's murder. There was a loud cry from Cassandra. "No! Oh, no! Not even he would do such a thing! His own son! Oh, my God!" and she began to cry. Scully hastily excused herself, went and held Cassandra. 

"Oh, darling, it's awful, I know. A very dreadful thing. But we know that he's paying for his crimes now."

"Oh, he can't pay enough!" wailed Cassandra. "Not enough! Not ever! Not for what he did to our son! Oh, my God, take the pain away," and she wept.

"I barely knew him, yet he was my half-brother," Mulder said, "and I feel sad that I will never get a chance to know him."

Cassandra patted his hand. "I know. Me too!" She was escorted back to the table.

"So what are you and Alex going to do with yourselves?" she asked bravely.

"Alex and I are going to the Islands one of these times, just to have fun. I'm so rich now I don't have to work for the Bureau anymore, but I will probably stay on as a consultant, IF they'll have me after the debacle with Amanda," he said, glancing at her.

"This came, FedEx," said Scully swiftly, rising and going to the sideboard. "There's one for each of you." She handed each an envelope. Mulder opened his, curiously. "In light of recent developments, Fox William Mulder has been pardoned for any crimes committed within the past month."

"What does yours say, Alex?"

"'Alexei Stefanovich Krycek has been pardoned for all crimes committed since 1994.' Well, hell," said Krycek, "that's amazing! It's signed by the President!"

"Mine is too," said Mulder. "I wonder who or what initiated this."

***********************************************************************

"I liked pardoning those FBI agents," said the President over brunch. "What do you think about it?" he asked the First Lady.

"The skies are clear, and they're implicated in it; the CNN transmission had an effect, and the world is once again safe. Yes, it was absolutely the right thing to do," she said.

"I thought so," he said. "Pass the champagne, please."

"I'll give you your shots, Alex," said Scully, "but there's only a two-month supply, so at the end of that time, remember, we talked about this, you'll have to go into detox. It'll last about a week, and it won't be comfortable, but after that you'll be off the stuff."

"Let's get it over with, Scully," he said. "Check me into the hospital tomorrow."

Krycek lay, in his private room at Stanford Hospital, detoxifying from heroin. Mulder stayed with him night and day, and he had frequent visits from the team and from Cassandra. When they were alone and the nurses weren't watching, Mulder sucked Krycek off; this seemed to take his mind off his troubles, at least temporarily.

Krycek was on Methadone, but he still suffered through the withdrawal syndrome: fluish temperatures, sweating, chills, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, aches and pains, tremors, twitches; because his dose had been so high. "It's a big pain," he told Mulder.

"I know, but you're being incredibly brave about it," said Mulder. "And when you're done, you'll be over it forever; do you realize that?"

"Yes," said Krycek. "Will you want me to go to rehab, too?"

"Only if you want to," said Mulder. "You can just go to NA meetings instead. There's one in the hospital, meets tonight. Want to go?"

"Do you think I'm able to?"

"Sure, if you want to."

A shaky Alex Krycek was escorted down to the first floor for the Narcotics Anonymous meeting. He was called on to share. "My name is Alex, and I'm an addict. I have a very strange story to impart. I became addicted when my lover beat me so badly I required pain medication, and he gave me heroin. Later he continued giving it to me, stepping up the doses daily, so that I would be easily manipulated and would remain faithful to him..."

The faces around him were rapt. Here was a story they'd never heard before.

The aliens put the man down in India, dressed in the business suit he'd been wearing when he was abducted. It was quite warm here, and he removed his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder; and he sweated as he walked along the dusty road. Soon he came to a stand selling rose-flavored yogurt drinks. "How much?" he asked the proprietor.

"Fifty rupees," the man said, eyeing the expensive suit. The man reached into his pocket, found there a wad of cash. "I'll give you five dollars," he said, "is that enough?"

"That is fine."

"Where am I?" the Smoking Man asked.

"You are in the province of Uttar Pradesh, about 25 miles from the city of Lucknow."

"Oh. And can you tell me who I am?"

The proprietor laughed. "That I cannot tell you. We have a nearby yogi, though, who can help you."

"How do I find him?"

"Just continue down the road a bit."

"I'm very tired. Is there some kind of taxi service?"

"Perhaps you can find a cart going down the road."

The Smoking Man nodded, felt in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes. Shaking one out, he offered one to the stall proprietor, who took it gratefully. He lit one for himself and continued down the road.

He was soon joined by a beautiful blonde young woman wearing a long white dress and blue shawl. "I will help you find the way to the holy man," she said, linking an arm through his. "I know you're hot and uncomfortable, but it's not far. You can live there while you learn what you must learn. Food, lodging, clothes, instruction, medical care; all will be free."

"Do you know who I am?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said gravely, "I have always known."

They passed a handsome young man on the road. The tall man turned to her. "Did I love a beautiful boy?"

She nodded. "You did, and he loves you still. Your memories will return very gradually, until all are restored. See, here is the road to the holy man. I shall leave you here. Farewell!" she said, and simply vanished.

He walked up the drive to a series of low brick dwellings, and knocked on the door of what seemed to be the main building. "Come in," said a voice.

He opened the door and beheld an older man in robes and a turban, sitting on a cushion, incense perfuming the air. "Come in, my son," said the man. "I have been waiting for you."

FINIS

End of The End of the Night

End of the Dream Brother trilogy

Tabby's World is continuing - new story coming soon!

  
Archived: April 22, 2001 


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